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#and publishing something like that would be inviting literally anyone to have a negative thought or opinion of my voice or my personality

modlisznik · 3 years

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Dankovsky thoughts let's goooo

(judging by the shards of Discourse reaching me despite all the blocks it's literally the worst time to publish this, but well)

Now, I'm supporting this interpretation mostly on Patho 2 and Marble Nest and I'm aware that the moment the Bachelor's route sees the light of day (WHEN???) it all can turn out wildly inaccurate and frankly just my wishful thinking... but hell, it's certainly no less skewed and personal than all the other takes flying around. Besides, it's all just an interpretation of this one humble actor, Mark Immortel gave me the permit, sue me.

What I often see discussed in fan spaces is "what if Daniil wants to defeat death because (personal_reason)". What if it's supposed to prove his usefulness to the powers that be? What if he grew up as an overachieving kid with strict parents, and now he feels he's a fraud and a failure unless he literally does the impossible thing? What if he suffers from thanatophobia, so it's a fight against the source of his very real fear? What if there's a personal tragedy, someone dead who he desperately wants to bring back? Now I'm not here to bash anyone's interpretation, we're all valid here and I love seeing all these ideas, that's what the fandom is for. But what I, Mo, wish to see in this character is a little different.

First, the dying - it's about control. Danko is all about control, whether it's how quickly he jumps into action and assumes a directive role, how frustrated he is about people disregarding orders... and that lovely Latin quote in Diurnal ending; while Artemy mostly goes with the flow and trust his intuition, Daniil wants to seize control of the situation and play his most optimal scenario. With the way he talks about his work in Thanatica, I don't get the feeling that their goal was full and total immortality, complete eradication of the phenomenon of dying (think about all the folk tales about closing Death in a bottle and the mayhem that ensues), but rather understanding and, ultimately, controlling the process of dying. To give people means and tools to decide whether they *want* to die at this point or not. And... it's a good thing? And not at all selfish, mind you, he's not like a lich in D&D, he doesn't seek to stop his own death. Or even the death of someone he loves. From what we know, his goals are genuinely altruistic. To stop people from dying unless they want to is a good thing, that's a benefit to humanity as a whole. And it's a benefit not lesser than the gift of flying, of defying gravity; just like with flying, it's not about eradicating the gravity (because it has certain benefits lol) but about controlling the fall. The whole idea might sound stupid, fantastical, utopian, but hey - we made some progress in this field already since the times Patho - presumably - takes place, we now understand death as a lack of brain functions rather than lack of heartbeat; who knows what's next. We should study it, we should ask questions. But it wouldn't be interesting if Daniil was just a humble lab-dwelling scientist. Since he has all this dramatic aura of a mad scientist around him, since he speaks about his study in the terms of "fighting death", he invites questions about his motives. At one hand, I get it - people who are happy and feel fulfilled don't pick impossible fights so yeah, it's fair to speculate what kind of damage made him this way. But on the other hand... there's this idea that every time we get a character whose aim is to disrupt the status quo we're almost conditioned to assume that they are somehow damaged, hurt, broken, that under all their ideas lies some trauma that we can point our fingers at and say "aha, so that's what it was all about, see, you aren't happy in this world because you are broken. The world is fine as it is, let's get you some therapy". I just don't vibe with it, and I disagree with the idea that every attempt at the betterment of mankind must come from the place of trauma, must be fuelled by trauma; I don't want to think that the only kind of motivation is the negative one. There are beautiful stories to be told about that, but I don't want for them to be the only story.

I want Daniil who actually, genuinely loves humanity. I want him to really be exceptionally intelligent, well educated and decide that since he has these extraordinary means, it is his duty to put them to the best possible use because you can demand the most from those who have the most and what goal could be nobler for a doctor than to give people an upper hand against death? I want him to have that aura of the XIX scholars who still unironically believed in progress (and were more than a little into occultism). I want him to dream about growing apple tree gardens in the desert (to hell with sustainable agricultural practices lol) while recognizing that people still need bread, even if they need dreams more. And I want him to be a vain, petty dandy with short temper and a capability to be a tiny wee murderous, because people are allowed to be messy and contradictory

So he loves humanity, but has troubles loving, or even relating to particular people. He's self-absorbed, and his focus is at the same time too wide and too narrow, because while he fights the fight of the largest possible scope - against death, against god and nature for the betterment of all mankind - he fails to take into account all the mundane struggle of the people around him. I don't believe that he despises people, as the Death says in Marble Nest, but rather underestimates them. As many of the truly passionate, he can't believe that the people around him could NOT recognize the importance of his work, realize that he's doing it all for them and at least not get in his way. He assumes that people are, at their core, rational and will behave reasonably - or rather, the way he expects them to, the way he himself would behave, because he has trouble putting himself in someone else's shoes. And he ends up disappointed, over and over, when his ideas about what would people do clash against people being, well, people with their own agendas. When the Plague strikes, he does what's rational - orders a quarantine, forbids people from leaving their homes and so on -expecting people to recognize the level of danger the same way he does and comply for their own good; lo and behold, his safety measures are being broken left and right. When the corpses pile up, he expects people to understand the sanitary hazard the same way he does and recognize that the very real threat of *another* outbreak is more important than the words of a distressed girl living at the graveyard. He wants them to disregard their personal plans and customs because that's what he would do. At the same time yes, he is arrogant, he assumes he knows best, he immediately puts himself at the very top of the responsibility ladder - but I get the feeling that it's not because he thinks so poorly of anyone else, rather so highly of himself, expects so much from himself. And as a result of seeing himself as the most crucial person around - to fight the plague; I don't think he considers himself important because of who he is but what he does - he ends up with this patronizing attitude that he considers others his helpers, the extension of his will, or not at all. where I'm getting with this? I'm not sure; I really don't have list of themes I want to see in his route, I trust in the devs to handle it with the same care that hook me in the Artemy's route. I'm curious about what kind of story they want to tell. But in the meantime - we all know it's going to be bittersweet at best and something something about flying too close to the sun and how every miracle is paid with blood. Still, we need people dreaming about these miracles and for once, I wish that this dream was born out of love

#pathologic #pathologic 2 #ohgod what have I done #I've spent way too much time on writing this instead of playing games #it's like I'm being punished for my hubris already #anyway have a good one patho fandom

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centrally-unplanned · 3 years

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(Spoilers ahead) Partner and I finished Season 2 of the Fruits Basket modern remake this weekend. I had only seen the, uh, 2001 original anime (2001? It was 20 years ago? Fuck), with no exposure to the manga, so a lot of the plot elements were new to me. I liked a lot of the show, but I have some big complaints about it handles its villain, Akito:

1: Akito occupies a very awkward place in this story. He (don’t worry, ill get to that) is the head of the main crew’s family and constantly inflicts abuse on all of its members, and is therefore the source of conflict for the plot, both in past trauma and present attempts as control and gaslighting.

Okay, so stories often have to walk a tightrope with abusive characters like this. Stories are normally pushed along and resolved internally - the main cast is going to experience the pain and drama, and fix it themselves, because that is the arc. For many plots that is easy, but if the story revolves around an abusive sibling/parent figure like Fruits Basket does, you will always be asking yourself the question “uh, why doesn’t anyone call the cops? or why don’t they just leave?” There is a tension between realism in the setting and the needs of the plot.

You can in fact resolve this tension in a lot of ways. If the abuse is primarily mental, slowly building, inflicted out of sight of responsible parties, etc, you can make this work. Lots of people don’t report abuse to authorities, or just move out of their house, but instead deal with it due to it being normalized. Other ways include making the characters teenagers - they don’t think of the world as having authorities outside of family (or school) and its much harder for them to reach outside of that bubble - the classic highschool bully problem. So Akito can work if he is subtle, slowly ramps, and controls his surroundings to hide his abuse from relevant authorities.

Anyway here is Akito pushing a 17 year old girl out of a two story window shattering her back and hospitalizing her for months:

And here he is threatening a 17 year old boy with life confinement in a literal cage unless he, uh, wins a duel with his cousin?

These are the worst moments but they are far from alone. This person is a raving lunatic, which fair enough that the 17 year olds don’t know how to handle that, but Akito himself is no older than 20. And the cast of characters who know everything that is going on includes:

-27 year old *published author* Shigure, who directly cares for both Akito and two of his abuse victims

-27 year old completely-independent business owner, Ayame, who is the *brother* of one of the abuse victims

-27 year old licensed medical doctor Hatori, who lives with and is the physician of Akito.

Hatori is violating every ethical obligation of his profession on the daily, dude is stone cold! This again could work if these characters were bad guys, but they aren’t - they are sympathetic protagonists or in Aya’s case even comic relief! The show wants you to think they are doing their best, Shigure even has a secret “plan” to deal with Akito that he has been planning for *years* and they all have "reasons” why they feel stuck due to the Zodiac curse yadda yadda. But you have to memory hole the fact that they are functioning adults in 21st century Japan, because otherwise Shigure and Hatori in particular reach levels of negligence to the children they care for that it tips right on over into being evil itself.

These kids go to public school, guys!

Now I know what any defender would say - “its the curse!” The whole cast carries the curse of the Zodiac where God invited them in long-ago times to a dinner, Akito is the current manifestation of that God in some form, and so they are bound to him to enact that “dinner” metaphorically in some way by staying by his side (also they transform into their respective Zodiac animals when chest-on-chest contact occur from the opposite sex, because Anime). Again, you can make this work! Show Akito exerting a magical force on characters who stray too far from him, or a compulsion locking them to being forever near the Sohma estate where he lives. Something showing that yeah, the relevant authorities could not handle this and dragging Akito away in chains won’t work. But sadly the show just...doesn’t bother. There is a “curse” but we are two seasons in and any negative consequences of the curse beyond Akito Being An Asshole are Footage Not Found (Kyo is an exception, but not a relevant one), despite everyone pretending like there is. Everyone wants to break the curse? Fine, kill Akito. Then you all get to live in peace and transform into adorable animals when you’d like, curse broken. Just throw “doesn’t cuddle or do missionary position” on your OkCupid profile to make your love life work, no one is gonna bat an eye, and some people will be, lets say, readily down with your particular transformation fetish.

None of this is fatal to the show per se, you can suspend disbelief. But the show takes itself so seriously that you can’t help but think these thoughts, and it colors in particular how the older characters act. And it would be so easy to fix! They just didn’t bother.

2: Can someone explain to me, in the year of our Zodiac Lord 2021, how a character secretly being a girl is a “surprise reveal” worth ending a season on? The final shot of Season 2 is that our resident asshole Akito has some female-presenting nipples, which is apparently a Big Deal? (maybe the show takes place on Tumblr, *zing*) Its the villain, they are an abusive maniac and also metaphorically/actually a divine being. Why does doubling their X chromosome count affect or change anything? I can envision plots where that is relevant, but this was not one! Maybe the next season will build that into the arc, but they haven’t done that yet, so the moment itself falls incredibly flat.

Yet people obviously feel differently from me - as is my habit I checked the reddit threads for the final episode and they are replete with people commenting on how shocking a twist it was, how they looked forward to it as manga readers, etc. Its a classic suspense trick I think, of how you can just have an event be surprising without it being thematically relevant, and it will work as long as you add the right drama bells around it. This was just a pretty egregious example of it.

-----

Between these problems, Fruits Basket has this aura of laziness around its none-core characters that does drag it down. Which is sad since I do actually like how it treats its core cast, even if it is stretched out over twice as many episodes as it needs. I am just guessing here, but beyond just “not caring” and doing it for the drama, I think it stems out of adapting the manga “faithfully”.

So Fruits Basket got an anime adaption in 2001, and the author (Natsuki Tayaka) haaaaated it. It was only twenty six episodes, a ~third of which got consumed just introducing the zodiac cast, so its plot had to be mixed around and truncated, and it was much more comedic and zany in tone. It was still very popular, so demand for a “better” adaptation of the full manga was high, which eventually happened in 2019. This time around Tayaka insisted on a high degree of control and faithfulness - I would bet it was essentially a “shot for shot” adaptation, and I have seen manga/anime comparison compilations to that effect.

The problem lies in how manga are made - they are almost never planned out start to finish. You pitch like a chapter, it gets picked up, and then its being published in tandem to its own production. That means that its pretty rare for the ending to be thought out, and the story figures itself out as it goes. Early manga Fruits Basket is pretty zany! Which means it plays fast and loose with its worldbuilding and its adult characters act silly most of the time. Once the high drama kicks in you realize that doesn’t work anymore, but you have already published it all months ago, no way to revise it now, so you just have to bite the bullet.

An anime adaptation would be a good time to clean that up! Its what Kare Kano did - a manga that starts as a cute highschool romcom and ends in sexual assault, for the anime they tried to create tonal consistency right from the start and change plot details around accordingly. But when the author, burned by a past studio, insists on Complete Accuracy...well then the anime has to bite the same bullets the manga did. And so you get Fruits Basket (2019), a show destined to never rise above its source material.

But hey, if Season 3 ends with Tohru just whipping out a gun, shooting Akito right between the eyes, and walking off into the sunset with a harem of zodiac hotties, then all will be forgiven.

#fruits basket #Fruits basket spoilers #Does a 2001 anime qualify as '90's anime discourse'?

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eclecticlanie · 3 years

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Child Spirit claps back!

OK! SOOOO. A little back story first. I left my first husband 10 years ago. I left EVERYTHING with him except my daughter. I use to write novels (never published), songs, poems, draw all sorts of artwork, and my clothes were my life (I was particular about my fashion choices). I left everything: books, original artworks, basically my soul and identity. When I left I did not write or do any art ever again. I had to focus on being a first time mother, go to work full time, and school full time. I had a new identity that left no time or room for who I was from that day forward.

My Hubs (2nd husband) produces Drum and Bass music and has since he was a teen. I support and help him as much as I can doing whatever I can (singing, speaking, picking out sounds, synths, etc; telling him to remove certain things that don’t work well, so on so forth). He has always taken music seriously and wanted to go much further than he has with it in the past but has held himself back due to fears of being in public eyes and what the media could do to him. Understandable.

We decided recently to go for it-to take this to the next level if we could. In this process, Hubs decides I need to unpack that 10 years of exiling my talents. He bought me a notebook and now hounds me to speak to him so he can write or have me write my own songs and poems again. I say hounds but really he is trying to inspire me and find me a muse, there is no true negative connotation on it. I am just naturally pessimistic. Hubs is most definitely an optimist and before anyone asks, yes, sometimes it makes me sick (figuratively). In reality we balance each other extremely well. I never have had a more healthy relationship with anyone other than my mother in my life with the exception being Hubs. He is my everything, next to our kids.

So that brings us to today. We, Hubs and I, are in the kitchen. I am cooking ground beef to make tacos on the stove. We were talking about how I don’t like my voice on recording but I do like it raw and natural and how I don’t understand why I feel I sound different on recording versus not recording. I then decide we need to discuss what we want to change and not to change if we happen to go next level with this music endeavor. As I leave the stove and go into the fridge (literally the fridge is next to the stove so it is only one step away) to make a glass of soda, I ask, “If we do go next level what do we want to stay the same and what do we want to have change?”

I turn around with the soda bottle in hand to go to the counter where my glass is waiting and Hubs is standing. I see a child standing next to him that isn’t mine with sandy brown or sandy blonde hair down to its cheeks. I’m not entirely sure which would better describe the kids hair. I assume it’s a non-binary child right off the bat. This child scares the shit out of me. It was not there prior to this moment. I never have seen this child before in my life and it is standing next to Hubs. I let out a short loud scream upon seeing this child and at this exact moment the child swings it’s hand and hits my Hubs glass of soda out of his own hands. The glass went up then hit the floor. It did not shatter, break, or crack. It was in one piece. Soda was on my upper and lower cabinets, on the floor and the side of the stove. The child was gone. Vanished.

“What was that?” Hubs looked at me.

“I don’t know why i screamed like that.” I tried to rationalize with myself, “It was a child.”

I pour myself a glass of soda and go back to cooking. Hubs and I discuss what just happened and didn’t continue the previous conversation we were trying to have about our possible future. We agree to invite the ghost upstairs to have a conversation via tarot after we eat dinner. Tacos took maybe another 3 minutes to cook and construct. We ate at the stove and the kids ate at the dining table. So a whole ten minutes maybe passed before we ran upstairs and grabbed my Nightmare Before Christmas Tarot Deck, pendulum, and pendulum board.

I’m sitting on the bed and my back is killing me. This spirit is sucking my energy to stay present so I can receive it’s message. I start shuffling and right out of the gate cards are spilling.

The first five:

1. XIX The Sun:

Directly from the guidebook:

“When cloudy skies pass, the sun comes out, shining warmth and happiness on everyone’s lives. The excitement, renewed energy, and joy Jack experiences when he discovers Christmas Town perfectly embody the energy of the Sun tarot card.

Upright: If you’ve been sad or troubled lately, the Sun is a sign you’re about to feel a very positive shift in your life. Use this rejuvenating energy to reconnect with good friends and enjoy yourself. There’s so much enthusiasm in this tarot card. It signifies a powerful time for inspired brainstorming.”

Interpretation: I believe this represents both the child I seen and the situation. The child had no ill or negative feeling. It was a joyful and happy child. As for the situation, the Sun is calling me out on how I’m very negative and down on myself and that positive things are happening in my life. I need to start removing myself from being pessimistic and join ‘Team Optimistic’ by following through and doing as my Hubs has been pushing me to do.

2. XVIII The Moon (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Moonlight illuminates Jack in the graveyard as he reflects on his feelings. The moon represents a great lament, the subconscious, and intuition.”

“Reversed: In order to move forward, you need to be honest about your feelings, with yourself and others. Expressing yourself will life a weight off your chest and get you out of a melancholy headspace. The Sun is about to come out, and a new day will bring new possibilities.”

Interpretation: I was in the process of expressing my feelings on my voice right before the glass was thrown. I was being negative and hurtful to myself. The child did not like it and that is why they hit the glass to gain attention and to give me this message thus “the sun is about to come out”. I will be enlightened by the other side as to their feelings rather than focus on my own.

3. X of Needles:

Directly from the guidebook:

“Upright: X of Needles indicates something is coming to a painful ending. Whether this refers to a friendship, relationship, project, or job, you may be left with heavy emotions. Give yourself time to grieve, but trust that it’s for the best. Fresh beginnings are ahead!”

Interpretation: The 10 years I am unpacking is the means to an end. The hurt will end. I’ve hurt myself enough. My talents no longer need to be buried and not used. They are valid and need to be expressed. They will bleed and feel rushed because the flood gates are now open.

4. Queen of Needles:

Directly from the guidebook:

“Upright: The Queen of Needles is intelligent, intellectual, and sensible. She takes time to make up her own mind and isn’t easily swayed by trends, fads, or popular opinion. Fair and practical, the Queen of Needles shouldn’t be underestimated. This card is a call to remember how strong you really are.”

Interpretation: The child is

5. III of Needles (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Reversed: III of Needles reversed symbolizes coming to terms with the past It’s time to pluck the needles out of your heart, and let it heal. Nurse your wounds and go forward.”

Interpretation: I need to let myself move forward and not punish myself. I need to allow my gifts to thrive and be of use in my life.

I decided to use the Pendulum board a little bit to confirm everything I had seen. I asked the spirit if I was correct with the sandy brown-blonde hair color. The pendulum swung ‘yes’. I continued, “Definitely not a red head then.” The crystal swung ‘no.’ “Is there more you want to tell me?” ‘Yes.’ I picked up the cards and started shuffling again. Five more cards popped out.

6. IX The Hermit:

Directly from the guidebook:

“The Hermit is a thoughtful, introverted figure who likes to spend his time ruminating alone--like the Creature Under the Stairs.

Upright: Now’s the time to get inspired by example and withdraw for some quiet alone time. The Hermit calls for reflection, so do a bit of soul-searching. Consider your current position, goals, and dreams. Remember your past, and learn from it so you can bring those lessons with you into a successful future.”

Interpretation: The child wants me to really look deep into myself and accept who I am.

7. III The Empress (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“The Empress is a maternal, nurturing figure who enjoys self-indulgence and life’s creature comforts. Our Empress is the Corpse Mom, who is often seen leading her child on a leash.”

“Reversed: Are you being too hard on yourself? You may have been feeling self-critical lately, but beating yourself up about perceived failures and flaws won’t help. Be patient, and give yourself room to make mistakes--they’re learning opportunities.”

Interpretation: I couldn’t have interpreted this card any other way than as they described. I needed to stop bullying myself. The child seemed very adamant with this message.

8. IX of Needles (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Reversed: Has your confidence been dealt a blow recently? If you’re feeling low, you may be your own biggest bully. Start focusing on your positive qualities instead of fixating on your perceived negative ones. A shift in perspective is what’s needed to get you out of despair.”

Interpretation: Again, I couldn’t have interpreted this card any differently. I need to get my head out of my ass.

9. VI of Needles:

Directly from the guidebook:

“VI of Needles usually indicates you’ve been through a difficult time. Have you recently been in conflict with someone or experienced an unexpected setback? It’s time to pick up the pieces and get on track again.”

Interpretation: I need to make peace with myself, pick up the pieces I left behind and put them where they belong in my life-not outside of it.

10. Queen of Candles (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Reversed: The reversed Queen of Candles lacks self-confidence. Have you been giving too much attention to the opinions of others? Don’t stifle your ideas and lose your voice. Make time for a bit of soul-searching, and express yourself. Don’t worry what others may think. You have so much to offer!”

Interpretation: Another hard one! All jokes aside, this child couldn’t have been more direct. I need to keep my opinion on myself out of the picture. I need to use my voice-literally. I need to see the value in me and gain confidence.

I then started telling the spirit I really understood the first time around about their message. Hubs is half laughing at me that I got called out by a child ghost. I continue to state out loud that I understand I need to be nicer to myself and use my talents with the focus of the future in mind. I also state that my back is really starting to kill me and that i would like it to leave if it had nothing more to say. I start shuffling and what do you know... Five more cards...

11. XIIII Death (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Death is often a feared tarot card, but that’s just because its misunderstood. It’s a card of transformation and transition-beginnings and endings. Like the creaky, old gates in Halloween Town’s cemetery, the Death tarot card is a spooky symbol of change and transformation.”

“Reversed: Are you putting off a life-changing decision? Resisting change is impossible and will only cause harm in the long run. Letting go of the familiar can be tough, but trust that accepting transition will make way for positive, fresh beginnings.”

Interpretation: Clearly a change is coming. Whether it be my attitude about myself or how I manage my mental health? Only time will tell.

12. IV of Needles (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Reversed: Here, the restful energy of the IV of Needles card becomes static. Are you feeling stuck? Have you reached a plateau? It’s important to shake yourself out of your routine. When you take a different perspective, you’ll see you have all kinds of opportunities around you.”

Interpretation: I need to look outside of the box when I think about myself.

13. XIV Temperance (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Like pouring magical potions into a cauldron, Temperance represents the act of combining different elements together in perfect harmony.”

“Reversed: If life is feeling hectic, it’s time to bring things back into balance. Pay attention to areas of your life that may be a little neglected. The recipe for success requires a pinch of self-reflection and a dash of Temperance. stir thoroughly, and enjoy.”

Interpretation: I need to balance my negativity with positivity.

14. IV of Candles:

Directly from the guidebook:

“IV of Candles represents celebration. People are recognizing your accomplishments! You’re feeling stable, secure, and comfortable. Be proud of yourself and enjoy the attention, but remember there is still work to be done when the party’s over.”

Interpretation: Although, at our current status as a family, we are successful and doing decent for ourselves but, individually, we can always work and build our characters.

15. III of Presents (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Reversed: Reversed, III of Presents represents an imbalance within a professional or financial collaboration. If you’re working with others on a project, make sure everyone’s doing their part. Disaster strikes when things become inequitable. Prioritizing teamwork will get you where you want to go.”

Interpretation: I need to be more open about my thoughts, opinions, hopes, fears, etc towards Hubs on this new adventure.

With this I felt a lot of my back pain let up. I started to slip the cards back into the deck and shuffle them again just to give them an after reading cleanse. Hubs randomly states he was thinking about splurging on a cyber whip rave toy and then another two cards popped out.

16. XX Judgement:

Directly from guidebook:

“We all have pivotal decisions to make in our lives. Will yours land you on the naughty list or the nice list?

Upright: Now isn’t the time to be hasty and impulsive. Consider your actions and choices carefully, and take time to think things through. Remember that all actions have reactions. Be sensible, and stay true to your conscience.”

Interpretation: The Childs leaving statement is to be mindful as well as ‘you do you’. Apparently, Party time is not on its list of things to do. I may have taken this a little condescendingly. This ghost doesn’t like to have fun.

17. IV of Presents (Reversed):

Directly from the guidebook:

“Reversed: Is your relationship with money healthy? Is it getting you where you want to go? If not, it may be time to look over your budget and reevaluate your priorities. Make sure you’re not spending frivolously if your cash flow can’t support it right now.”

Interpretation: The spirit child was telling us to maybe not go out and buy a light up whip to dance with. No parties for you! Well... In our house, raves will persevere! GLOW STICKS OUT! RAVE ON!

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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I have a question. In one of your recent posts, you said that trigger warnings come from a place of obligation and not true caring. I agree with you that a lot of the time, that’s true. Which can be concerning. But my question is that at the end of the day, does the person’s reasoning matter? Maybe they’re an awful rude person but if they’ve tagged their stuff, made it easy to see what’s gonna be in the fic, doesn’t that still help? Even if coming from a rude place. The end result is good

Well sure, any time a trigger warning is a benefit to someone, it doesn’t really matter what the reasoning for making it was. Absolutely.

My point there was the problem is one of priorities, and approach. And bottom line, a person who is only tacking on expected trigger warnings out of a sense of covering their own ass, like......they’re not ever likely to be examining their own work with an eye towards the kinds of negative effects it could potentially have on people, because they’re too busy denying that there’s any possible negative impact it could have at all. Despite the fact that this is just willful obliviousness - if fic can have a positive effect on people and inspire or reinforce positive ideas, it has just as much power and likelihood to have a negative effect on people and inspire or reinforce negative ideas. Its not about a one to one correlation, like, its not like anything someone reads in fic they’re going to do, but as pieces of a larger fandom culture? That absolutely adds up and contributes to the normalization and perpetuation and spread of negative ideas and ideologies.

And this is the kind of self-scrutiny an over-reliance on trigger warnings gets in the way of....because its just accepted or taken as fact that trigger warnings ARE the solution....despite all the times and ways people speak up to say well there’s a problem here because this alleged solution is not working here and here and here and over here too.

But someone who’s convinced they ALREADY did their due diligence by tacking on a couple trigger warnings is never going to be as receptive to being told they missed some, as someone who approaches things from a perspective of understanding that trigger warnings are not infallible, they’re only effective when an author has an HONEST view of their own work.

(And if fandom was truly engaging in a lot of this content honestly, as I’ve said, tags like dub-con and pseudo-incest and consensual underaged sex would not be as widely used as they are in the ways that they’re most often used.....ways that are categorically NOT what those things mean and advertise).

And most importantly, trigger warnings as they’re used by fandom now, like....have kinda become an excuse for authors to try and abdicate any responsibility for what they write. “Oh, I used trigger warnings, so any impact my fic has on someone has nothing to do with me past that point.....unless of course its a positive impact, in which case I’m still more than happy to soak up the praise.”

And that’s just not how it works. You know that thing I said in an earlier post about how all writing is just another form of communicating things - to ourselves in journals, to others in stories or emails or messages.....bottom line, writing has one purpose: to convey ideas, meanings, etc between the person writing and the person or people they’re writing TO or sharing that writing WITH.

In essence, a fic that you’ve written and then decided to POST, to publish, to put out in the world in some form and share with others.....at that point, it stops being a conversation with just yourself and becomes a conversation that’s being had with anyone and everyone who then reads that fic....even if it is a one-sided conversation for the most part, with others just listening to what ideas and thoughts and images and impressions you’re conveying via your writing.

And think of it in terms of like, literally ANY conversation you might have out loud.

If you say something offensive, is it anyone’s fault or responsibility other than yours, that you said something that was offensive?

If you say something you don’t actually believe, but don’t follow it up with anything that actually indicates out loud that this isn’t something you genuinely believe, is it realistic to pretend that people have no basis for listening to what you actually SAID and from that drawing conclusions about what you believe or support?

If you say something that’s in direct opposition to something you said earlier, is it any wonder if people question which you ACTUALLY meant or believe MORE, or just flat out don’t believe what you said earlier now?

If you say something insensitive or even cruel, do you have any right or reasonable expectation why anybody who hears you shouldn’t be within their rights to call you out for what you said and why it was fucked up?

If you choose NOT to say something, out of respect for someone you’re around, or because you know its insensitive or offensive or anything of the sort....are you being censored, or are you just choosing not to be a douchebag?

And so on and so on.

Writers have a tendency to kinda hide behind the logic “not everything we write has to be something we personally believe, we can write characters who have very different values than us” - and that’s absolutely true....but only up to a certain point.

Because you can absolutely write a CHARACTER who believes the opposite of stuff you actually believe or value.....but your NARRATIVE still has to refute that somewhere at some point in some way.....otherwise.....there is literally no reason why anyone reading that, ‘hearing’ what you spoke into the world, would think you DON’T actually believe that. You’ve communicated something toxic or ugly or even harmful or predatory....without accompanying it with ANY communicated idea as to why a reader SHOULDN’T just absorb those ideas as is.

Like.....if you write a rape fic that’s INTENDED to be received as sexy or hot, even if you’re not actually condoning rape within the fic, and even if you would never condone it in real life.....

If your fic still garners comments like “that’s so hot” or something like that, and this isn’t a problem for you because this is a reaction you expected or even a response you intended or were seeking?

You didn’t say or express that you would ever rape someone or say it was okay to rape someone.

But you still communicated, without any kind of self-contradiction:

“Hey, here is a scenario in which rape is hot.”

And whether you’re talking about fiction or reality, why WOULDN’T that communicated idea be anything other than wildly insensitive and yes, even offensive and yes even DAMAGING to many rape survivors....even if you’re one yourself?

Like.....another example, okay so I’ve literally been gaybashed, nobody’s likely to ever accuse me of being homophobic, its a pretty safe bet, right? But if I write a fic FOR WHATEVER REASON, in which a character is homophobic even though I’m not myself, but where a character expresses toxic, prejudicial, HARMFUL ideas about being gay....and then my fic nowhere at any point says or does anything to REFUTE or contest those harmful ideas......why would the fact that I don’t actually believe those things make ANY difference whatsoever in terms of whether those things were absorbed by readers in the exact way I communicated them....but without the benefit of any of the reasons I KNOW - but did not communicate in the fic - that they’re harmful and shouldn’t be paid attention to?

So yes, fiction absolutely can do harm, if its not treated with the appropriate responsibility. It can make people who’ve never met someone who’s Muslim decide all Muslim people are terrorists. It can convince people that destructive, harmful instances of incest are actually the outliers and most incest is harmless and between equals. It can normalize the idea that all bisexual people are slutty and promiscuous. It can do tons more beside all that.

And yes, fic absolutely can and often DOES, in fandom, communicate the idea that many of the exact same people who swear they support survivors and have nothing but sympathy for what they went through and all that....can in the right scenarios and circumstances still find the very IDEA of rape hot and exciting, can find the IMAGERY of a hot or sexy character being raped to be sexually stimulating and gratifying and DESIRED, and so on and so forth.

And why wouldn’t that communicated idea make someone question if you’re someone they can ever be comfortable being around, because one way or another, you still found and advertised, broadcast, invited others to join in enjoying.....a scenario in which something an awful lot like that someone’s trauma was hot or sexy to you just as long as it was projected on someone else - a distance which may not matter to them or make them feel any better about the fact that you’re still talking about one of the worst things to ever happen to them, but skewing it in a way where every thing actually being said isn’t about how its bad or wrong or nothing you’d ever condone....but hot and titillating and sexy?

Why wouldn’t it bother someone or weird them out that you see no conflict of interest between having sympathy for them but then flipping a switch and happily consuming content that’s entirely and unilaterally just about characters going through the exact same kind of thing.....and the viewpoint you’re siding with in this particular instance is that of like....the actual attacker, the one going yes, this is good?

ALL OF THESE are the kinds of questions - and the kind of impact - that not only do trigger warnings just flat out not cover....but that the over-reliance on trigger warnings makes less and less likely to even pop up in a writer’s brain as something worth considering or weighing at all.

So again, like I said at the top - I mean yeah, if a trigger warning is actually helpful to someone, it doesn’t matter WHY it was added or put in place.

But if it wasn’t put in place out of a genuine self-examination of your work and a genuine desire to look out for readers’ comfort and take responsibility for the kind of heavy content you’re choosing to write and share.....

Chances are, the fact that one trigger warning did work for one person or however many, was just a stroke of luck and there’s likely to be a dozen other ways in which that writer failed to consider or even ask themselves....is there anything else I should recognize and acknowledge as potentially having a negative impact on people?

And please, if you read or write dark fic for any reason, you don’t owe me an explanation but you owe it to yourself to at least take a second and honestly ask yourself if you’ve EVER stopped to ask or examine any of the above questions or angles. And if not, why? Ask yourself if you’ve ever been encouraged or had it suggested by others in fandom to even just ask or wonder about these things. And if not, why?

Please examine - who benefits MOST in all of this, from encouraging more and more readers and writers to just NOT think about ANY of this stuff at all, and to instead just shut down any and all conversation about it or attempts to START conversations like this......

Other than people who like and enjoy this type of content and genuinely just do not care about the impact it might have on others....and so similarly, want as few other people as possible to care or even THINK about the impact it might have on others....and thus, maximize the number of people who absent those considerations, have no problem contributing to or enjoying that type of content?

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tellywoodtrash · 6 years

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status update:

So, I got a few friendly, good-natured asks on how I was doing, and what’s up with my life (work, Chandler, etc.), so I suppose this is as good a time to tell everyone: I quit my job earlier this week.

Early followers of the blog may be aware that this blog started as an attempt to find some kinda peace during some very trying times in my life. Since then, I’ve been burning the candle at both ends (I guess, in some kinda misguided attempt to move on with life) and... it’s finally caught up with me. I’m fucking exhausted and at a breaking point. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. ('Spiritually. Ecumenically. Grammatically.' Name that movie!) And so, I'm giving myself a break and am going to be taking some time off to focus on my mental health.

However, this hasn’t been an easy decision to make, as it means bye-bye financial independence and my ~~riproaring Sex And The City life (snort, NOT) and that I will now have to pack up my entire life and leave the country I (and Chandler!) call home. So the next few days will be even rougher; full of transition and second-guessing myself. But in the long run, I think I need to do this now before things get much worse.

Poor Chandler has no idea what’s coming up; that he’s about to be unceremoniously stuffed into a box and flown many thousand miles to a whole new country, with strange new smells and creatures (including my relatives who will want to come around every now and then and friendly-ly harass our socially anxious butts.) I just hope we both survive this move!

As for what it means for the blog, it’ll mostly be business as usual, I suppose. I will have more free time, but it’s going to be invested in moving, and settling in, and recovery (first I have to recover from the moving and settling in, and only then can I focus on *actual* recovery) so... I’ll do as much as I can. Yes, there's lots of new shows, most of them better than IB, and I might wanna watch them too, but.... idk, I don't seem to have it in me right now to get invested in a whole... new.... thing. We'll see once I'm properly settled into a restful routine where I don't feel so battered in the brain. On the plus side, moving to India means proper access to Hotstar and Sony Liv and alllllllll the platforms; I won’t have to jump through hoops and diddle around with VPNs to access what I wanna watch! Yaaaaaaay!

There are a few things blog-wise that I just have to address though, because they’re srsly stressing me out a lot lately:

Messages asking me to explain WHY stakeholders in the industry (actors, makers, the channel) make the decisions they do. Bhai main kahan un sab ke ghar ya boardroom mein ghussi baithi hoon, ki mujhe pakka pata hoga???? All I can do is speculate like the rest of you. Which is what I do. I look at the facts that I do have (social media posts, TRP reports, etc.) and put out MY theory. But it’s all it is. A theory. I do not have any kind of information that you also do not have access to. Asking me to explain the inner workings of complete strangers' minds is just nonsensical. I do not have the complete information based on which I can give you an accurate answer. So please just stop asking me these. At this point, idek why *I* do half the things I do, let alone have any surety of anyone else’s decisions.

Complaints. Look, all of us have complaints about the shitshow that is IB, and the Tellywood industry at large, and its affairs both off-screen and on-screen. But just think of my plight when news breaks/an episode airs and I get like 10 anons in an hour, most of which are filled with cribbing. OVER SOMETHING I DON’T HAVE ANY CONTROL. You have all the right to complain, sure, but not IN MY INBOX. I only publish about 30 - 40% of the asks that I actually do receive, and because of that you may think that you’re the only person sending in this to me; but trust that more often that not, you’re not. I most probably have already received least 5 messages about it, in varying degrees of negative, and it’s exhaaaaaausting for me to wade through it all.

"Asks” that are just STATEMENTS, with no real question to them. I get these and whether I agree with your statement or not, my only reaction is “.... haan, toh???” What really is the point of these? I have nothing to contribute to them. It’s just YOU deciding that your opinion is sooooooo important that you must come tell ME it. In my inbox. On anon. Which is not just stupid, but also RUDE af. What you're doing is the equivalent of going and ringing the doorbell of a stranger's house and monologuing in their face about a random topic when they open the door. Like, I literally did not ask?????? Especially since you’re on anon and I have absolutely no personal equation with you. By having an open inbox, I didn't consent to being the receptacle of every opinion wrt Tellywood under the sun. Like, the whole point of this blog is so I can shout MY dumbass opinions into the void that is the internet without bothering anyone else about things they might not care about/agree with. Anyone who follows/engages with me is here by THEIR choice. Why don’t you do the same? Go make your own blog, instead of using mine. There’s only place for one person here on this blog, and that’s me. Please read your messages before sending them and ask yourselves: Does my tone/content leave anything open for discussion? (FYI: Just putting a question mark at the end of a sentence does not make an engaging question that opens up a discussion.) What contribution am I inviting from the recipient with this message? If the answer is “no”/"nothing", then please don't send it.

The rise of combative and contrary asks; ones that don't come out of a genuine curiosity, but with the intent to mindlessly argue, talk in circles without a point and overall, and just belittle the opinions I’ve expressed by engaging in whataboutery. There's a point at which "healthy discussion" ends, and "debating" starts, and I’m not here to engage in Debate Hour. The open askbox (or replies function) is NOT an invitation to pick at ONE sentence of some post (often missing the context; those other sentences are there for a reason y'know) and demand explanations from me, for which I have to then bend over backwards to clarify to some random faceless person on the internet. Not only does it take tremendous amounts of time and energy (for what is largely a pointless endevour: these people aren't really here to have an exchange of ideas or even try to see my point of view, they're just trying to force THEIR contrary opinion ON me), it really sucks the joy out of the blog for me. Look, I am not an idiot. I can correlate writing patterns and associate them with previously seen comments/opinions and make educated guesses on who these may be coming from. I've been holding off on blocking anyone yet, but these comments and asks have me seriously considering it. (And FYI: blocking an anon blocks you via IP address. So don't think ki 'oh ho ho, I can just hide under the anon function, coz that has no consequences.' All you'd be doing is proving my guesses right, as to who is whom.) I don't WANT TO go to such extents, and want this still to be a place where people can approach me, but this gross disrespect of my time and boundaries is beginning to wear on me now. Before coming at me, please think to yourself if what you're saying is actually necessary. If it's just a passive-aggressive counter-argument to my opinion that's all conjecture/opinion (i. e. things without factual basis and based on feelings) then please; you're very welcome to whatever you believe, but I don't care. If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it. If I care for your opinion, I will engage with your posts (by liking or commenting or reblogging or sending you my love in your inbox.) I just really really don’t care what anyone's opinion ON MY OPINION is. Please stop being contrary just the sake of it and ruining my day and mood. Go chronicle your opinions on your blog/twitter/whatever, instead of using MY blog as a platform and arm-twisting me into participating in this unpleasant exchange. I just don't have have the energy or interest to engage in this fuckery anymore.

Look you guys, I love getting stuff in the askbox. I do. If I didn’t, I’d just have closed the askbox and called it a day. I’m just asking that you be a little THOUGHTFUL about the recipient, me, AS AN ACTUAL LIVING PERSON WITH FEELINGS AND A LIMITED AMOUNT OF ENERGY AND TIME, instead of some kinda faceless robot who just processes your messages in binary and spits out an answer. Before engaging, please re-read your message to consider your tone and content and the impact on the person on the other end. Despite this request, if you just decide to engage in the above mentioned ways, I’m sorry in advance if you end up getting blocked; but things have reached a point where I have to look out for myself, and my comfort, and what I want from this space. I would like this blog to be source of joy in my (and others’!) life, not something that I feel resentful about, or as a source of draining what little energy I have left.

Sooooooo, that’s how it is! Things should be the same around here barring some periods of inactivity occasionally due to moving/spotty internet (but the queue should be running anyway.) A lot less negativity and gloom, hopefully! Wish me (and Chandler!!!!!) luck and please send us all your good, restful, soft and fluffy vibes!

(The restful slumber of a poor fluffy bastard who has NOOOOOOOOO idea of what the next few weeks have in store for him.)

#status update

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smallerthanmilk · 6 years

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My own self-image I guess.

People take such a long time to learn to love themselves, yet we all start off on a plain of lack of personal judgement, of the wonder at the creature you see in the reflective glass. What happened to that wonder? What changed to put loathing in front of where loving should be? Who taught you to speak and talk and believe such low things about yourself and who inspired your lack of self esteem. Is it the media? Is it the constant supply of people to compare yourself too? Is it the atmosphere and attitude of the education system? Is it just how our brains automatically work? The ideals of self-expression and self-worth that are sold to us in magazines, films, in the world that we live in? The constant supply of reflective surfaces, the marketing of products telling you ‘with this you can improve your own beauty? I don’t know. I wish I did. There are so many things I wish I could understand. I wish I knew why I think this way about myself. Why I put my own perceived beauty over my comfort, over my enjoyment, why I let it consume me and eat me alive. I wish I could understand why I find myself spending hours standing in front of my mirror, pinpointing and picking apart all the flaws I see, all the insecurities I list out, all the things I would change in a heartbeat had I be able too. I wish I could truly say that I love myself. I don’t think I ever will though. I don’t believe that there is a possibility that one day I will look at myself and be satisfied with what I look like. I haven’t ever really been. As I said before, I struggle with my weight. It is the basis of many of my discomforts about myself. My stomach, my stretch marks, my double chin and round face and chicken wings and thick thighs.... the list goes on. It’s odd. You would have perhaps thought that with the more weight I loose the more comfortable I feel in my own skin, and to an extend it is true, however more and more I find myself picking more flaws I hate, more anxiety about how I look fat in images than I ever felt when I was at my heaviest. As if I am terrified to look worse or as if I haven’t improved myself in the last few months. There’s more I don’t like. I don’t like my chin. It’s, as once put ‘a butt chin’. I feel bad not liking my chin. It is one of the features that I have inherited from my Dad, and in a sense it makes me feel closer to him, but I hate it on my own face. I also hate my lips. The top is far to thin and my cupids bow is weird and slightly lopsided. My teeth, whilst they have been improved with restorative dentistry, I still dislike. I will never have perfect, nice, white teeth, They will always be oddly small and weirdly shaped. My nose has a weird ridge which I dislike. I like to wear glasses to hide it, but they also can make my face look funny. My eyes are fairly set back in my face, and I dislike how my eyebrows push onto my eyes to give them a square shape due to the overhanging skin. My eyebrows themselves are two low on my forehead, and my forehead is covered in old scars and spots and horrible acne. I dislike my jawline, I dislike how my ears sit on my head. My neck has a weird curve at the back of it that I am unbelievably self-conscious of. My legs are too short, my legs are fat and oddly muscular. There’s more, like hands and hair and waist sizes and elbows and moles and freckles and the list goes on. There’s a lot to dislike. But on the other hand (wow, look at me throwing in a good conjunction into this mount of a personal essay) there’s a lot I can learn to love, and I really should fully try to change my outlook on myself. For example, I should love my chin. It is inherited from my Dad and is a characteristic I share with someone I love. My stretch marks show my history, they add texture and beauty onto an otherwise rather plane surface, my teeth are unique, my height is cute, my face is mine. I should be proud to own such a face, but I am not. It’s odd isn’t it. The knowledge that you shouldn’t think the way you do, and yet for some reason you do. And I am trying. As I said, it takes a long time to learn to love yourself, and I have days of self-confidence and self love that can be so easily fractured by a negative mood that I end up taking out on myself. it’s like a constant wave of self-belief followed by a lack there of it. A progress that moves one step forwards then two steps back, over and over again, until there comes a point I accept myself for what I am. I don’t really know why my head is thinking about this. I guess I have done a lot of literal self-reflection today. It’s odd. Sometimes I can persuade myself that I am a hot bitch and I really love myself, the next moment, I genuinely and fully believe I am far to ugly to ever be able to be loved. In my head everyone is probably repulsed to see me, in my mind no-one wants to remain my friend as they don’t want to see my face. And then something hits me, like a rounders ball smacking me in the nose, that I don’t view others in that way. I don’t pick apart anyone else’s flaws, I don’t note a cleft chin, I don’t laugh at or mock someones eyes or spots or any of the same things that I doubt about myself. I see joy, I see skin, I see smiles and happiness and self-acceptance. I see scars that track recovery, freckles that make up constellations. Beauty that realms in many forms. So why don’t I see myself like that?

As I said. I have no idea. It might be the constant berating from my mum as a kid, calling me fat, ugly, a pig in a pigsty, unlovable, worthless.... the list goes on (more on that later for sure. Heh...) It might be social media, it might be the mocking words from the teenagers I was surrounded with. It might be comments from ex-close friends. It might be anything. All I know is that it exists. That its there. That there’s a mental stigma I need to fight, and never give into. It’s hard. It’s sometimes unbearable. It’s odd too. I find that my male friends don’t seem to face anywhere near as such of a self-depreciating view. They have mentioned issues of being perceived as ‘too skinny’ or not muscular enough, but there isn’t the utter lists of specific self hatred, the dislike of not meeting societal expectations. I probably is due to society. Honestly, the impressions of makeup and feminine expectation has admittedly had more of an impact on my self worth than I ever would have predicted. Its odd. Not feeling enough for anyone, not even being enough for yourself. And I know others feel it too. I know I don’t feel it all the time. I do right now, I’ve spent a while thinking about it. If i didn’t, I would probably be more happy with my complexion. But I am not. And that’s alright. I will maybe get there. Maybe I’ll never be 100% happy, but I will be more happy than I am now. Optimism right? I still have it in me. Sorry that this post is a little bit of a downer. Please feel free to discuss any of this with me. If anyone ever reads this, that is. I’m kind of expecting that by this point people have given up on these random and odd blogs. It kind of helps me though, to streamline my thoughts rather than letting it overwhelm me and build in my head. In my head it can easily loose structure. Written out, it’s a lot easier to deal with. Yes, I could just keep this on private but as I said at the start, it makes me really have to moderate what I say, and I think i take comfort in the possibility that maybe someone does read this, maybe someone cares enough to see what my internal thoughts are. Obviously, this isn’t all of them, and obviously, there is so much more I need to cover. It’s odd. It’s like I am inviting the world to see my darkest and deepest thoughts. I feel like maybe my next post will be very much more light hearted than this shit show. I’m kind of awkwardly signing this off aren’t I? I think I am slightly scared to publish this, as I have never so outwardly expressed this before. Whoops. Sorry world. I am okay by the way. I will get there. It’s alright. And I am sorry for putting this all on you. Even though there isn’t a specific you and it’s your choice to actually read it. LMAO. I wonder if anyone does actually read these or if they are kind of just drifting off into the unknown and unwanted and ignored area of the internet.

Okay. I really need to stop typing for the moment. See you guys soon.

#selfimage #selfworth #fear #negativity #fACE #bodyimage #weight #blog #blogger #diary #diary entry #dear diary

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

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EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT BOSS

Editing yields 95th percentile writing—95% of articles are improved by it, but 5% are dragged down. Eventually we may be able not just to play back experiences but also to index and even edit them. Screens were a lot smaller in 1998. Painters discover that they're expressionists. There hasn't been such a wave of new applications since microcomputers first appeared. Startups offer anyone a way to compete with Apple: be a better solution. Not the programmers. We need good taste to make good things. So any difference between what people want and what you deliver is multiplied. A good piece of software.

A mediocre programmer over the same period will generate zero or even negative wealth e. Like great athletes, great designers make it look easy. The most dramatic example of Web 2. You can't make the pie larger, say politicians. If you plan to start a startup. If there had been one person with a brain on IBM's side, Microsoft's future would have been harmful. Aiming at timelessness is also a way to make drawing bear a greater weight of exploration. Instead of accumulating money slowly by being paid a regular wage for fifty years. At every period of history, people have believed things that were just ridiculous, and believed them so strongly that you risked ostracism or even violence by saying otherwise. For architects and designers it means that beauty should depend on a few carefully observed and solidly modelled objects will tend to be outliers. In the original sense it meant someone, usually an outsider, who deliberately stirred up fights in a forum by saying controversial things. The whole site was organized like a funnel, directing people to the test drive.

0 democracy is not in itself bad, only when it's camouflage on insipid form. Most of the famous founders in Silicon Valley in the last couple decades. He believes you should get people to pay you from the beginning. 0 now, I have some idea what they mean is that the company has no way of measuring the value of your work. It was when I'd finished one project and was deciding what to do next that they always bit me. You're lucky if your productivity is a third of what it was before. So it is easier to sell an established startup, even at a large premium, than an early-stage one. Which seems to me exactly what one would want to be, in any kind of work. But here there is another layer that tends to obscure what trade really means. For the next year or so, if anyone expressed the slightest curiosity about Viaweb we would try to sell them the company.

Which means that as we learn to avoid one class of distractions, new ones constantly appear, like drug-resistant bacteria. The CEO of a company that tanks cannot plead that he put in a solid effort. If starting a startup were easy, everyone would do it. They literally think the product, one line at a time. One of the biggest remaining groups is computer programmers. I once studied, the students wanted most of all to develop a personal style. An energetic rower would be encouraged by the thought that he could have a visible effect on the speed of the boat.1 In a large group, your performance is not separately measurable—and you specifically are—one pristine old car the richer.2 It's obvious that biotech or software startups exist to solve hard technical problems, but I think this time I'll wait till I'm sure they work before writing about them.

That was her actual word. As anyone who has tried to optimize software knows, the key is measurement. Most of the greatest discoveries seem so simple that you say to yourself, that there is such a thing as beauty, we need to be very lucky. We had some well known users. The second phase in the growth of taste is a conscious attempt at originality. Open-source software has fewer bugs because it admits the possibility of bugs. This, as we then thought, let it slip by. And if they can't, they may simply violate it and invite you to sue them. What are you going to do? And if someone was lazy, the others would be more likely to succeed than not.

Copernicus' aesthetic objections to equants provided one essential motive for his rejection of the Ptolemaic system. Maybe as startups get cheaper it will become more common. Your performance can be measured, he is not expected to devote your whole life to your work. A mediocre programmer over the same period will generate zero or even negative wealth e. Err on the side of generosity. Instead of treating beauty as an airy abstraction, to be either blathered about or avoided depending on how one feels about airy abstractions, let's try considering it as a tablet small enough to hold up to your ear. You can still raise money, but you don't have to do is get eight or ten lines in the right place. One way to put up barriers to entry. If I remember correctly, our frontpage used to just fit in the size window people typically used then.

There are two differences: you're not saying it to your boss, but directly to the customers for whom your boss is only a proxy after all, and you're not doing it individually, but along with a small group of their peers than to average it with everyone. Godel's incompleteness theorem seems like a practical joke. And yet if I had to write down everything I remember from it, but if there had been some way just to work super hard and get paid a lot more, than they would in a big company take over once you reach cruising altitude. I can tell it isn't. There hasn't been such a wave of new applications since microcomputers first appeared. And what's especially dangerous is that many happen at your computer. When you have to get it over with as soon as some big company becomes aware of it, they'll take away your market overnight. Eventually we may be able not just to play back experiences but also to index and even edit them.3 For describing pages, we had a template language called RTML, which supposedly stood for something, but which in fact I named after Rtm. You don't need to join a company to do that, people who want to get the present shape. How has your taste changed?

And it can't have been heredity, because it isn't happening now. Was it something about the geography of Europe? But there were no takers, so we had to borrow a conference room to reassure an investor who was about to back out of a new round of funding that we needed to stay alive. Upside must be balanced by downside, so if there is no such thing as beauty, we need to be able to think, there's more where that came from. In software, it means you should give users a few basic elements that they can combine as they wish, like Lego. How do you arrange the dials in a square, and a dial to control each. The best you can do it in a distinctive way. When people say something substantial that gets modded down, they stubbornly leave it up. Excite really never got the business model right at all. It was pretty advanced for the time. I need to transfer a file or edit a web page, and I was even more convinced of it after hearing it confirmed by Hilbert.

Notes

I just wasn't willing to put it this way is basically zero. This was made particularly clear in our own Web site. I didn't realize it till I started using it out of the biggest discoveries in any case.

There's a sort of pious crap you were able to fool investors with such a brutally simple word is that some of the things we focus on users, however. Probably the reason this works is that their experience so far has trained them to keep tweaking their algorithm to get rich by preserving their traditional culture; maybe people in Bolivia don't want to either. At the time required to switch to a new search engine, the computer world recognize who that is exactly the opposite: when we started Viaweb, if the growth rate to impress are not very discerning.

The New Yorker. That's because the publishers exert so much better is a new Mosaic. Angels and super-angels will snap up stars that VCs miss. That's why startups always pay equity rather than ones they capture.

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deborahcastellano · 6 years

Text

On Taking Up Spaces

It's the first day back after a holiday, my new meds suck (as discussed), I've already sat through a two hour meeting, I have a headache and a coworker clearly already wants me to murder her just so we can both be free of this place.

Let's get to it.

So, as many of you know I work in a "challenging" environment. I've thrown a few things at it but this place has a twenty year old egregore that doesn't really have any effs to give about what a Gen X/Y cusp would want out of a work environment. Literally, zero effs. I've tried to adapt, but it really isn't happy until you've fully just submitted your delicious will to it, let it eat it as a late night snack when it gets sad and lonely and abandon all non-work place hopes and dreams. I'm not about that life.

But I'm sort of a cranky secret optimist, so one particularly crummy day, I started to consider how to make this a better environment for myself through witchcraft. There are some new influences entering this crypt over the next month or two which is not something that happens often so I thought I'd be pretty foolish not to do something with it.

Get A Girl. Go through your spirit/ancestor/goddess Roladex. Who is invested enough in you that you also trust to fix your situation? If none of your current Roladex is a weapons grade Fixer, can you get an introduction from them to someone who is? Bring your A game. If you need weapons grade Fixing, be prepared that a half assed piece of pound cake isn't going to pull you out of the fire. This is your interview. What can you offer in this new relationship? What are you willing to do to get this done? Can you have a candle holder with a wax electric candle that you keep lit at your desk?

Stop living like a filthy hamster at work, it's disgusting. Keep your work area neat so gross energetic dust bunnies aren't collecting into larger grosser entities and making your life harder. If you are like me and have people constantly dropping files and crap on your desk like you are their personal garbage dump, take care of it as soon as possible and hand it back. If you are like me, you probably have very little actual personal space to call your own. Start thinking small and what you can get away with in as vaguely office appropriate new age that you will obviously work over like it is your literal job at home which is not a toxic cesspool at work.

Bake, bake, bake. You know why.

To de-gross your work place, consider a salt lamp. It can actually do something for the air, it's only minorly weird and it's a huge hunk of salt to banish negative crap from your space.

Start working on your positive mojo. This is a nearly impossible feat in a crap work environment which is why you should take it as a personal challenge to fix your situation. Time to figure out how to be subversive and live deliciously. I am going to pull out some real Teen Witch crap for this. Why? Because I think it's going to work. There's no direct sunlight at my desk, right? Right. So I bought myself a clear glass ramekin and a Resurrection plant. I also have a small round mirror and some rough rose quartz. So the Resurrection plant is going into the bowl with the rose quartz with a round mirror under it to magnify all the fucking positive vibes this place can muster up and when this place inevitable tries to kill them, that's okay! My plant is coming back to life, what now, crappy egregor?

Not having sunlight is a great reason to give as to why there's a resurrection plant on your desk. Plus, anyone with an Instagram or a kid with an Instagram will just assume you are suddenly very fashionable. Whatever. Use whatever to your advantage. Stop soaking up all the negative crap into yourself like that is part of your actual job description and focus on what is actually in your job description and keeping the rest out. Just because you are handed a bag of rocks doesn't mean you have to carry it, unless it's part of your job and you've agreed to that already.

Next.

Let's work on using temporary space. Do you go to a festival, a convention, a vacation space? That's a great time to work on your magical practice. I don't generally have space of my own, but I was lecturing at a convention recently as well as hostessing a tea for them, and I got a suite to myself. At first, I didn't see this as an opportunity but then I realized that this was very much my space, where I invited others into it. That set a very powerful standard for me. I loved nesting into my space, arranging my macarons and St. Germain just so. My sheepskin draped over the leather coffee table. My clothes hung up, my sinks and bedside table put together just so.

I loved deciding where my altar would go and not needing to consult anyone else. It was a space for thoughtful glamour choices with music I liked best. I liked seeing how capable I was. Forgot my phone charger? No problem. I called the nearest 5 Below and asked them and then took myself right over there to pick it up, listening to radiomancy omens on the way. I picked up a quartz tiara on a whim, which wound up to be my most complimented item. I loved telling admirers that it was 5 Below, not as compliment apology but a triumphant caw that it's for all of us to access, if desired.

I set up my altar to Babalon on the desk, intentionally arranging my vanity next to it so I was constantly sitting next to it. Purple embossed velvet, a crimson opened pomegranate, a sfogliatelle shaped like a yoni, a tiny gold tea cup with the word tramp scrawled across it, shining rose quartz, a delicate peacock feather, a red wax sealed love potion, snowy deer antlers, a pink glass container with a perpetually lit (electric) candle, a perfume I had mixed for this, an amethyst glass container for the perfume with curled reeds to spread it in my room. Soft rabbit skin. A glittering compact, a shimmering perfume atomizer, a picture of Her. Dried flower petals strewn across the altar.

I could talk about what that did for me during the convention and after, but, um, two can keep a secret/ if one of us is dead.

It was good though. V. good.

Deb’s book is available for purchase. Her shop is stocked with ritual oils for your practice and handspun yarn. If you have already read her book, won’t you please make her publisher happy and leave a review?

#basic witch #basic #witchcraft #unfucking #fix your shit #Witches and Pagans #witches of instagram #glamour #Glamour magic

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glenngaylord · 6 years

Text

MY MOMENTS OUT OF TIME IN FILM 2017

Instead of a Top 10 List, every year I like to honor a long-discontinued but influential annual column from Film Comment magazine. I couldn’t wait for my father to come home from work with the “Moments Out Of Time” issue. The writers would cite their favorite scenes, images, or lines of dialogue, even from films they may not have liked, because let’s face it, even bad films may have a great moment or two, unless you were a film called RINGS, CATFIGHT, THE SNOWMAN, or THE DINNER. In that case, you suck in the most forgettable of ways. Despite some obvious stinkers, this was a great year for film. Some resonated with me, such as I, TONYA and THE FLORIA PROJECT as they tackled the issue of class in America. Despite being period pieces, films such as DARKEST HOUR and THE POST pinged on topics such as war-mongering and the need for a free press, both of which we seem to talk about daily right now. I have a few I need to catch up on, such as MUDBOUND and THE SQUARE, and one I recently saw, A GHOST STORY, wowed me, but I haven’t written a review of it yet.

Even I can’t see them all, so here, in no particular order, are my Moments Out Of Time in film for 2017:

“America. They want someone to love, but they want someone to hate, and the haters always say, 'Tonya, tell the truth!' There’s no such thing as truth. I mean it’s bullshit! Everyone has their own truth.” - I, TONYA

A little girl (the great Brooklyn Prince) stands in front of a motel room door, telling her little friends they’re not allowed to enter. She pauses, and then mischievously says, “But let’s go anyways!” in a moment of pure rebellious, but dangerous joy. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

A young man (Lucas Hedges) begs his girlfriend (Saoirse Ronan) not to out him in one of the most touching moments of the year. - LADY BIRD

A woman (Cynthia Nixon’s blazing portrayal of Emily Dickinson) desperate to connect with someone, anyone, lights up whenever she’s around her soon-to-depart friend. It’s a joy you wish she could have at all times. It’s that ache to spar with another human that cuts to the core of this lonely tragedy. - A QUIET PASSION.

Try watching the “I did not hit her” rooftop filmmaking sequence without bursting with glee. One of the best-sustained comedy sequences of the year. - THE DISASTER ARTIST

A beautiful, long final shot of a young man (Timothée Chalamet) swimming in his tearful thoughts as the end credits role will break your heart. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

So will his father’s (Michael Stulbarg) 11th hour speech to him. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

A ghost in a white sheet with two eye holes, who has traveled across time for centuries, finally finds something important, which jogs his memory, making him feel less alone in the world, and then in a startling swish, is gone. - A GHOST STORY

Meryl Streep, in the most delicious long pause of 2017, struggles with the tough decision whether to publish the Pentagon Papers or not. She conveys every pro and con with a series of reactions, leaving the audience breathless until she finally, and thrillingly, becomes a feminist heroine for the ages. - THE POST

Sure, it’s ostensibly Daniel Day-Lewis’ last film, but it’s the women, one with a deadening stare (Leslie Manville) and the other with the best eye flutter I’ve ever seen (Vicky Krieps), who take charge of this fascinatingly perverse story of control. - PHANTOM THREAD

A cleaning woman (Octavia Spencer) dusts a giant steampunk contraption as her mute co-worker looks on, sending the increasingly magical fable into a visually stunning dreamscape. - THE SHAPE OF WATER

“You know I can’t give you the keys, right babe?” A chilling line in a scene in which a sympathetic, engaging character transforms into a monster, making Allison Williams, so often hated and too easily dismissed on GIRLS, as someone to REALLY watch as her career rises and rises. - GET OUT

A beloved, iconic character from the original film makes a stunning, surprise appearance. Despite it being CGI, this was the movie-movie moment of 2017. - BLADE RUNNER 2049

A bellicose, raging Prime Minister, known for his speeches, sits quietly with the square-ish frame filled with dark, negative space and seemingly lit by a single, too-bright light bulb. He’s alone and yet belongs to us all, the push-pull of this theme resonating throughout the entire film. - DARKEST HOUR

“This didn't put an end to shit, you fucking retard; this is just the fucking start. Why don't you put that on your Good Morning Missouri fucking wake up broadcast, bitch?” - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

Bill Skarsgård’s reading of the line, “Take it!” will haunt me for years. His Pennywise proved to be surprisingly haunting and indelible. - IT

The film’s not great, but Christopher Plummer and Ridley Scott deserve all the “We’re Not Worthy’s” for pulling off the Great Kevin Spacey Replacement of 2017 in 9 days, and actually delivering a full-bodied, memorable character in the process. - ALL THE MONEY IN THE WORLD

A desperate thief uses his smarts to wheel his badly-injured brother out of the hospital in an impressive feat. It shows a whip-smart mind in the body of person with lost potential, and in a moment which proves this well-meaning guy just can’t get a break, it turns out he took the wrong person. - GOOD TIME

Michael Cera, even more villainous and sociopathic than he was in THIS IS THE END, and apparently channeling Tobey Maguire, freaked me out as a hateful, poker-playing celeb. - MOLLY’S GAME

Ok, people will be talking about the biplane scene forever, but nothing made me laugh more than Tiffany Haddish’s reading of this line: “Girl, you can't get no infection in your booty hole! It's a booty hole!” - GIRLS TRIP

Bridget Everett, in a blazingly intense performance, sings the shit out of Lita Ford’s KISS ME DEADLY in a dive bar and transforms herself from comedienne to serious dramatic actor. - PATTI CAKE$

A crazed woman (Aubrey Plaza) barges in on the wedding of a social media friend and maces her for not getting on the invite list, giving the Facebook effect its full and insane due. - INGRID GOES WEST

A young woman, unable to take one more second of her overbearing, judgmental mother (Laurie Metcalf), surprisingly jumps out of a moving car. - LADY BIRD

Charlize Theron kicks one ass after another in a seemingly single shot (but not really), making this one of the greatest fight sequences ever filmed. - ATOMIC BLONDE

Algee Smith finds the heart of the story as a musician who struggles with his ambitions after a harrowing all-night encounter with racists cops. - DETROIT

Say what you will about the insanity that unspools, but Michelle Pfeiffer as the houseguest from hell was fun to watch and sorely missed when not onscreen. - MOTHER!

As Elton John’s ROCKET MAN plays on the radio, Bille Jean King (Emma Stone) and her new girlfriend Marilyn (Andrea Riseborough) drive in sun-dappled glory, their hair blowing around with each surprising gust of wind. It’s a perfect evocation of the 70s. - BATTLE OF THE SEXES

After following around an imaginative, enterprising man (Michael Keaton as Ray Kroc) as he develops the most successful fast food chain in the world, and seeing his as a hero, he transforms into a terrible villain about halfway through, making us question the value of the American Dream. - THE FOUNDER

A suicidal Spud, his head covered in suffocating plastic, leans back in his chair and falls backwards off the top of a building, but a flash cut send him to the floor of his apartment where Renton (Ewan McGregor) slides under him to catch him. One of the most imaginative, emotional cuts in a film I’ve seen this year. - T2 TRAINSPOTTING

Don’t heckle Kumail Nanjiani! Holly Hunter WILL read you to filth by interjecting, “That is like saying that all frat boys wearing country club hats and Hawaiian shirts have shriveled up tiny little dicks!” - THE BIG SICK

A young man throws himself down in the sand as bombs explode closer and closer to him. A spectacular feat of cinematography and muffled sound, and one of the greatest shots in cinema history. - DUNKIRK

A mother kicks the chair her little daughter sits in, sending her flying. A sudden, impactful depiction of abuse. - I, TONYA

Tom Cruise emerges from a crashed plane, his face hilariously covered in cocaine. - AMERICAN MADE

A seemingly sweet young man (Barry Keoghan, my favorite new actor of the year) changes his entire demeanor and quickly, chillingly tells a doctor (Colin Farrell), in no uncertain terms, what is going to happen to him and his family. - THE KILLING OF A SACRED DEER

The best opening sequence award of the year easily goes to a film which mixed musical filmmaking with kinetic car chases and an endearing sense of rhythm. - BABY DRIVER

Eels creepily slither around a woman in a tub in an otherwise completely forgettable, indulgent film - A CURE FOR WELLNESS

Adam Sandler winningly loses his shit as he searches for a parking space. - THE MEYEROWITZ STORIES - NEW AND SELECTED

“See! I took you on a safari!” exclaims Brooklyn Prince to her friend as they stand in front of a herd of cattle. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

An ape, bigger than ever portrayed before, emerges out of nowhere and swats down helicopters like flies as the camera gloriously swirls around him. It’s APOCALYPSE NOW’s famous attack scene, but this time the invaded kick the invaders’ asses. - KONG: SKULL ISLAND

A messy trainwreck of a person (Anne Hathaway) lugs a mattress around town and literally confronts her inner demons. - COLOSSAL

A major character unexpectedly spits up blood on another, in a shocking moment (and there are a few in this film) I’ll remember for a long time. - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

French ACT-UP AIDS activists throw blood all over the offices of a pharmaceutical company, and heroically help change the speed at which drugs were approved for a population in desperate need of good news. - BPM

Despite being a thrilling adventure film, the quiet moments, such as the wonderful final shot of a woman walking out of a room and into the jungle, made this stirring yarn into something more internal and thoughtful. - THE LOST CITY OF Z

By this time, we’ve seen too many cars racing around, so instead we focus on the pleasure of seeing a dreadlocked Charlize Theron deliciously chewing the scenery from the evil lair of her jet, sending her into Faye Dunaway territory. - THE FATE OF THE FURIOUS

The unexpected death of a major star, as a gelatinous, alien creature slides down his throat, destroying him from the inside out in zero gravity, may feel straight out of the ALIEN textbook, but it’s memorable nonetheless. - LIFE

I’m usually not a sucker for Disney movie songs, but I have not been able to get EVERMORE out of my head ever since I saw the film, and I mean that in a really good way. - BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Same goes for Elvis Costello’s fantastic contribution with YOU SHOULDN’T LOOK AT ME THAT WAY, from a beautiful but not-great movie. - FILM STARS DON’T DIE IN LIVERPOOL

Instead of the chestburster, we get the backbreaker, and instead of John Hurt, we get a character we don’t care about…but it STILL manages to be freaky and cool in an otherwise execrable film. - ALIEN: COVENANT

Can we please distribute LICK MY ASS, DIANE t-shirts to every person on earth, or at least make it THE trending hashtag of the year?!! - I, TONYA

Gal Godot donning the titular, classic costume for the first time in the film, charges through the emotional No Man’s Land sequence and into our hearts. - WONDER WOMAN

A seemingly liberal father over-explains his love for Obama to his daughter’s new black boyfriend (Daniel Kaluuya), who makes the Dad feel ok about his issues with race. It keenly pinpoints the struggle people of color have trying to make white people more comfortable about their discomfort. - GET OUT

Willem Dafoe’s Manager expertly takes charge of a potential child molester, demonstrating his heartwarming, soulful protection of the lovable but annoying little brats who live in his motel. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

The camera whooshes from ground level to an overhead shot as a determined skater prepares for an important routine. - I, TONYA

Yes, the movie is an unholy mess, but Hong Chau’s “I go to Norway” speech is just a little masterpiece. - DOWNSIZING

Feet moving on red splotches of sand as they battle with their light sabers. - STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI

A return to the iPhone footage he used in TANGERINE pays off perfectly in the final sequence, a rush of imagination, and a surprising and unforgettable place to take your little survivor of a main character, even if it’s potentially just a fantasy. It doesn’t change the fact that a neglected but loved little girl wants a little escape. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

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goodguyjean · 7 years

Note

Do you think Jean's words to Floch in chapter 90 were an intentional regression of his character? Perhaps one that he'll realize and try to change? Sorry if you've already said something about this! Also the amount of people that turned on Jean when he said this and hated him for it bothered me, like, these kids are still KIDS and are going to be hypocrites. They've grown a lot and are exceptionally mature for their age, but they're still only 16 at most. some fans need to cut them some slack

Chapter 90.

Hi there, anon! I actuallydon’t think Jean’s words to Floch are hypocritical or a regression of his characterdevelopment, so I agree that people should cut him some slack! My apologies; I’ve had to put this answer under the cut because it got away from me again, and I don’t want to take up too much space on people’sdashes! As a quick preview, I think a lot of the hatred of Jean for what hesays to Floch stems from a mistranslation!

This is speculation onmy part, so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but my guess is that you’re referringto a fan translation that circulated before the official Crunchy Roll translationcame out, wherein Jean asks Floch, “You’re gonna keep mourning our fallencomrades forever?” I remember that this translation sparked a lot of outrage,and I myself did enter the conversation around that translation to try to makesense of it, but the official English translation of this scene isactually quite different:

Chapter 90.

@mirandafandomette also helpfully provided mewith the official French translation of the Japanese, which aligns prettyexactly with the Crunchy Roll version here (which is also the translation thatappears in the published volume 22). As you can see, instead of questioning thevalue of Floch’s mourning, Jean is reminding him of decorum. He’s essentiallysaying, “Now is not the time or place for this discussion”, which is also thegist of Jean’s comment to Floch after his insensitive words to Hitch.

Chapter 90.

Nowhere does Jean say that Floch shouldn’tvoice his opinion at all, just that a memorial is not the correct forum to hashall of these things out. On the one hand, I think that Jean’s interventionshows character growth: he’s learning about kairosor timeliness of an argument/speech act. Maybe Floch’s dissent does need to be heard, butis it right now, at a memorial service for the fallen? Maybe Hitch does need to eventually hear that Marlowe probably regretted going to the front line, but does she need to hear that now? Earlier in thenarrative, Jean would not have considered time or place before making anargument. However, Floch counters that he does indeed have kairos; to him this memorial is exactly the time and place to betalking about what the loss of Erwin and all the soldiers who died in his suicide charge means for the Survey Corps and humanitymore broadly.

Chapter 90.

I think Isayama is definitely inviting us tocompare Floch and Jean in this chapter, to show us how much Jean has changedover time. I think Jean’s evolution is largely positive, and I agree with him that the funeral is not the best place to have a conversation about Erwin andArmin, but I also think Jean comes to the realization in this scene that he’s becomean “insider” and lost touch with the perspective of the average soldier. Hemight view that as a negative development and attempt to compensate for it; we’llsee what he’s decided when he appears in the manga again!

Jean and Floch are very similar, right down totheir character designs. We’ve all noticed that Isayama isn’t always the best differentiatingcharacters visually, but, as MirandaFandomette pointed out to me when I talkedto them about this ask, making a character like Floch and then putting him inthe same frames as Jean really draws attention to how close their designs are.Given the parallels in their personalities and roles within the story (somewhattactless, determined to tell the uncomfortable truth they think others need to hear), I think it is verytelling that Jean of all people steps in to say now is not the time to talk aboutErwin and Armin. It’s almost like we get to see the complete arc of JeanKirstein in one frame!

Of course, stepping in prompts Floch to talkabout when Jean didn’t interfere onthe rooftops of Shiganshina:

Chapter 90. I see those sweatdrops guys!

Floch points out to Jean and Connie that theirinaction was, in fact, an action of sorts: they didn’t disobey their superiorsand advocate for Armin, but they didn’t add their voices to Floch’s. I’m notconvinced that they could have changed the outcome of the Serum Bowl (afterall, it really did come down to Levi’s personal feelings about Erwin, as Flochhimself notes), but the fact that they were so torn about what to do at all(although I really think Jean is in shock on that rooftop, if you look closely)shows Floch that they’re more personally invested in their close comrades thanwhat might be best for humanity overall.

Now, one might reasonably expect Jean to betorn in this situation, actually, given his suspicion of Erwin and his tactics.For Jean, there might be a real question about whether or not Erwin really is the best choice for the serum (hence the ease with which he can say “what’sdone is done”). When I said as much to MirandaFandomette, they reminded me thatthe very qualities that make Jean wary of Erwin initially (that he’s turnedhimself into “monster” for sacrificing so many people) are qualities that Floch himself notices and decides are necessary in order to destroy the titansonce and for all. He literally calls Erwin a devil, says that he wants Erwin tosuffer longer “in this hell” for all the deaths he caused.

Chapter 90.

So Jean and Floch are actually relativelyclose in their assessment of Erwin’s character, but they come to differentconclusions about the value of Erwin’s “monstrosity.” And therefore it is ashock to Jean, who styles himself as an advocate for the average soldier, andhas even thought of himself as an average soldier up until this point, to realizehe’s so disconnected from the actual viewpoint of the “fodder.”

Chapter 90.

Unlike Floch, Jean hesitates on the rooftop.He is torn. He sees some kind of value in keeping Armin over Erwin, even if hedoes not directly advocate for Armin either. He gives up on choosing and letothers decide—not a shining moment for him necessarily, but one which I thinkmarks his personal struggle with the value of Erwin’s “monstrosity” as well asthe development of his friendship with Armin. Jean would rather not loseanyone, and he doesn’t like to be forced to choose; it may even be a callback tothe cart scene, where he cannot not kill the MP woman even at the risk of hisfriends because he does not want to make a choice about which life was morevaluable. Whatever his thought process on the rooftop, his indecision sets himapart from the average citizen. He’s an “insider” now, too overcome by hispersonal feelings about both Erwin and Armin to advocate properly for humanity,according to Floch. And since he can no longer speak for the “fodder”, perhapshe wonders if it’s his place to determine when it is appropriate orinappropriate for Floch to speak.

So, to sum up, I don’t think Jean is beinghypocritical or regressing here. He’s not telling Floch to not speak because he’swrong or because he, as “fodder,” doesn’t have the right to do so at all. He’slearned about decorum, and he’s also realizing how much the Uprising andShiganshina have changed him, for better or for worse. Because of hisexperiences in the Corps, he’s become an insider whether he wants that title ornot. I think more could be said about how his development somewhat ironically createsparallels between him and Erwin (and perhaps MirandaFandomette will oblige usby writing up their thoughts on the links between Jean and Erwin which theyalso shared with me during our conversation on this topic!), but for now I’llleave it at Floch and Jean both have good points here, and that I am unsure abouthow Jean will continue to develop now that he’s learned that he no longershares the views of the “average” person in the Walls.

Thanks for the note, anon!

#replies #anonymous #i really think a lot of the ire against jean comes from the unofficial translation #which did seem really tactless on jean's part #but also here are my general thoughts about the scene and what it means for jean #jean kirstein #snk meta #snk #floch

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iammrskeltal · 7 years

Text

Taylor Swift and The REAL diss in Look What You Made Me Do.

– THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL:

A word of advise, the more you read, the more sense it makes, it is a LONG text, but please take the time to read it.

Okay gals and guys, ladies and gentlemen, im here to genuinely break down the REAL meaning of Look What You Made Me Do. I mean, yeah, sure, a lot of people just go on and on about how the track is just basically a diss track to all of taylor’s “celebrity feuds”, but let me tell you, there is SO much more than that. It becomes way better when you see it like this, so, lets get to the point, Yes, it is a REALLY long text, but well, its worth it….i guess.

I’ll prove my point with the lyrics, i’ll break the song and build it up again, and you will see a new song, a way better song (yeah, believe me, it can get better).

First of all, what is the real target of the song? Not Kanye, not Kim, not Katy. No no, like Blank Space, the main target here is the media, how they portray her to the world, how they manage to create things about her, what she does, what she doesnt, how they always have something to say about her, everything. Now, lets break the lyrics down shall we?.

“I don’t like your little games Don’t like your tilted stage The role you made me play Of the fool, no, I don’t like you I don’t like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie You said the gun was mine Isn’t cool, no, I don’t like you.“

To be honest, this part was the most difficult of them all, i mean, with all the Kanye and Kim feud still going on, i really thought this was aimed at them, i even considered to leave this piece of the song behind, but then it hitted me like a train, the last piece of this puzzle was placed. So, this start isnt really that hard to get once you think about it, the media plays gameswith Taylor Swift, they invent stuff, they like to generate drama around her life (yeah, i know!, even more drama than it is already!). But why the tilted stage, right?, this means that they like to focus on her, like, if any artist do the same thing as her, they don’t even talk about it, even less if its a male artist (mainly their relationships), for example, how many artists decided to NOT share their political stance? A lot. And how many were called White Supremacists about it? Yeah, you guessed it right, only Taylor Fucking Swift. Or, well, let’s see, how about counting people relationships like its some kind of game? Hoping and waiting until they break up to write even more articles about how Taylor Swift always does the same thing over and over?. I mean, a lot of artists tend to have a lot of relationships, but who they care more about? Yeah, you got another point, Taylor Swift again. And this is a perfect crime, i mean, lets talk/write about Taylor Swift, say whatever we want, invent stories to sell and get views, say whatever, nobody will care if its true or false, just say it and thats it, its a win-win situation since taylor persona is so bashed that people nowadays tends to believe most things they write about her. What’s true doesn’t matter anymore, they decide which role Taylor have to play there, no matter the circumstances, yeah, sure, she can make mistakes sometimes, like everybody, but for the media, Taylor is always the one to blame.

As the songs says, they lie, they laugh, they blame her (say the gun was hers), and you got another story to tell the people, no matter the authenticity of it, thats not important.

"But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I’ve got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!”

This part is pure gold. Just listen to this, she already showed us that she stopped getting frustrated about what the media said about her (yeah, sometimes its inevitable but im talking in general), with time she got harder (because she tries to not care about it) and smarter (because she learned how to cope with it, she learned how to turn it into her favour). She rose up from the dead because, lets be honest here, how many times did you read in the media “IS THIS THE END OF TAYLOR SWIFT?”, “IS THIS TAYLOR SWIFT FEUD GOING TO BURY HER?” or well, things like that, maybe not literally but you got my point fellas (take the song Mean as an example), and she is still here, better than ever.

AND THEN, THE BEST PART OF THAT VERSE, just listen to this, im going to write it again, I’ve got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, you read it? Well, now get this, which name is she talking about? Who did she checked twice? It can’t be Kim, this would be the first song about her, Kanye? maybe, i mean, she has “Innocent” about him, but i believe this would be more of a Kim song, do me a favour and let’s think about this for a second. WHO TF IS SHE TALKING ABOUT? The f**** Media, Blank Space was the first check on that list, she decided to answer the media in that song, she understood how to play the game and made them know, and now Look What You Made Me Do it’s the second check to them, she, again, copes with all the negativity they throw at her constantly and decides to use it again and show them she can beat them.

But if you don’t believe me, there is more, there is MUCH, just keep reading.

“Ooh, look what you made me do Look what you made me do Look what you just made me do Look what you just made me Ooh, look what you made me do Look what you made me do Look what you just made me do Look what you just made me do”

The chorus changes dramatically when you understand the real meaning of the song. Its not about a new and bitter Taylor who changed for worst because of all the problems, who was forced to be dark or something like that, its not a counter-blame about who she became to be able to move on with her life, no, i mean, we saw her, she still is our little beautiful heavenly pie we always knew, what the chorus really aims for is the news about her.

Just put it in perspective, she says “Oh, look what you made me do” like, oh, so, what did you invented now? What did i do now? So now apparently im a white supremacist, so now apparently im anti-gay, oh, so now im not friends with Selena/Karlie anymore, oh…now Joe it’s upsed because im in the spotlight? There are MILLIONS of things like this, and the list goes on and on, every piece of news that isnt true about Taylor’s life become something that the media made her do (for everyone that reads those news and actually believes them). The media knows that for some people, the rumours they spread becomes something Taylor did, they become her actions (even though she didn’t do them).

“I don’t like your kingdom keys They once belonged to me You asked me for a place to sleep Locked me out and threw a feast (What?)”

When i listened to the song i tried to link this with the Kanye and Kim feud, but i couldn’t, now i get why, it isnt about it. This, in my opinion, is about how the media wanted to get to know taylor, before she understood the game, she invited them into her life, she was more public, but then everything changed. This whole verse is a metaphor about how the media stole her life in some kind of way, she is no longer in control of the truth surrounding her life, the kingdom keys (her home, her life) dont belong to her alone anymore. Now the media can say whatever they want and it will become the truth about her life to some people. They not only took her keys, they threw a feast means they started spreading rumours about everything, i mean, a feast is A LOT of food for many people, they enjoy it, they talk about her just because they can, no matter true or false, about old loves, the new one, old friends, new friends, politics, whatever floats their boat will get published just because she was naive enough to let them get deep into her life in the past, she gave them a place to sleep, a place in her life, and now they are part in control.

“The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma And then the world moves on, but one thing’s for sure Maybe I got mine, but you’ll all get yours”

This changes a lot too, now its not about a Taylor that lingers in the past, trying to get a dark revenge to everyone who wronged her (gotta admit that would be funny tho). This is the image the media portrayed about her since forever, she is never the one hurt, she is never the good one in the story, she is the one to blame, she plays the victim, even if people played with her, for the media, she uses people and throws them away (its not like we all have more than ONE relationship in our fucking lives, right??). The world moves on and the media always shares more news about a Taylor who will get revenge on eveybody, they say DRAMA and KARMA is all she cares about, dont talk about how she helps people, fans, ill people, people affected by natural disasters, women in need, no no, all Taylor wants is REVENGEEEE, at least thats the image the media sells about her. They say she is stuck in her own world where only revenge matters, no matter the circumstances or the problem, taylor never gets to tell a story about her life, no no, the media tells us that taylor gets revenge, taylor uses people. And Taylor finishes this by saying “Yeah, i know things happen in the world, i know the image you portray about me, im preeeeeetty aware of that, but dont worry, ill use it”

And now, the last part of this masterpiece:

“I don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me I’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams”

This is basically the image the media portrays about her, nobody trusts her and she doesnt trust nobody, she uses people and people know she uses them, there is never trust, never friendship with anyone. For the media the squad is fake, her celebrity relationships (as friends or lovers) are fake, she cant have boyfriends, she only have targets, she cant have rebounds, she only wants stories to write new songs, she cant have friends, she only wants attention, she cant have problems/fights, she generates them for profit. The media managed to make Taylor look like a crazy woman who only cares about money and herself, not giving ANYONE EVER her trust, and thus, not receiving it, since she doesnt want it anyway, because she uses people. The actress starring in your bad dreams is pretty strong too. What is a dreams? Lets say its someones imagination going wild, is Taylor able to control what other people dream of her? Absolutely not. So, the message here is that she is playing the main role in a fictional story someone is making about her, is she able to stop it? no, is she able to act and stop being the bad in that dream? nope, neither, it is a bad dream (a bad story) and she is starring it. If people try, they can always find her as the main villian in their fictional stories, and there is almost nothing she can do about it. If people wants to blame her for anything, they will be able to (for example, white supremacism again, i mean, no matter what she does, no matter if she proves people 1283183 times that she is not racist, she is called a White Supremacist, i mean, she have really good black friends and danced with Todrick Hall (who says she is the sweetest person), you HAVE to be a white supremacist, right??? RIGHT??. Okay, so, to conclude this part, since she is not the one dreaming it, so she can only see what other people makes her do, she, as a person trapped in someone elses bad dream can only Look What You Made Me Do.

I hope you liked what i wrote, i have to say im sorry if something its not well written since english is NOT my first language, but well, this is what i really think Look What You Made Me Do is about.

Goodbye!!

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/karmic-tools-weekly-forecast-september-22-28-2019/

Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast: September 22 – 28, 2019

By Kelly M. Beard

The video version of this forecast, as read by Kelly, is available here.

The Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast covers the current planetary transits which affect people in different ways and to various degrees of intensity. Take notice when it is a Personal planet (Sun / Moon / Mercury / Venus / Mars) interacting with a Social (Jupiter/Saturn) or Collective planet (Uranus / Neptune/Pluto). And pay extremely close attention when it is a Social planet interacting with a Collective planet because that means something *big* is brewing that will move large groups of people along their evolutionary paths. Tuning in to the energy and rhythm of the planets can serve as a useful *guide* as you move along your Individual Path. It also helps to understand your place within the context of the larger Social & Collective Story. Below, you will find out how these energies tend to manifest, as well as guidance and direction.

*NOTE* There are some days when there are NO CONTACTS (besides the Moon), please note that there are no missing entries, we just list the actual Activations of each week + the day they happen.

Weekly Forecast: September 22 – 28, 2019

9/22 ~ Mercury (communication/expression) ~square~ Saturn (limits/reality): This energy is good for deep thinking rather than negotiating with others and it can be more of a solitary energy making communications with others more challenging than usual. You may feel like people don’t understand what you’re trying to convey or that you’re coming across more negative than positive. This is not a good energy for business negotiations unless every detail is very clear to all involved. This energy makes you most critical of your Self, but it could trickle over onto others as well. Beware of a tendency toward apathy, pessimism and/or depression, that’s Saturn & Mercury, which makes it more mental than literal. Try to stay focused on all the blessings that you do have and all that you have accomplished instead of what’s still on the list of things to do (in life). This energy is not intended to make you feel bad about all the things left yet to do, but encourage you to begin the necessary steps and be okay with small measures of progress for now. This energy just makes you focus on the practical side of manifesting. Clear the mental & emotional debris, and begin to lay a new, clean, solid foundation beneath your goals and strategize about the details of bringing it to fruition.

9/24 ~ Mercury (your voice) ~sextile~ Jupiter (expansion):

Where a Sun/Jupiter contact is more about YOU, this activation with Mercury is more about your consciousness, ideas, thoughts & concepts (Mercury), which Jupiter expands in some way, helping you to ‘think bigger’, edit your personal Story and step up your game in some way. This is also a great energy to work with if you are in school, learning something new, expanding your knowledge base or gathering new tools & information that support your goals. Your dreams are tapping you on the shoulder, demanding some attention at this time. Mundane issues are not your concern right now, you want to figure out how to create the life you’ve been imagining. This energy also provokes within you the awareness & understanding that being generous naturally attracts generosity to you. The big picture and overall patterns which have led you to this point are being brought into the light. Feeling clear, sharp, alert and optimistic, you begin to realize that anything you can imagine (or remember), you can also achieve.

9/25 ~ Venus (values) ~square~ Saturn (foundation):

This energy can make you feel cool & detached with loved ones. It is time to ‘take stock’ of your relationships and really evaluate the level of balance between giving & receiving. Business or personal – relationships must have a balance of give & take. You may feel more aware of your true independence in life and start reevaluating the need for certain relationships, at this time. This energy pushes you to dig for your individual fortitude & determination to live according to your own personal values & priorities, so course-corrections or adjustments may be necessary and fairly obvious at this time. You may feel lonely, depressed or disconnected but it’s just the Universe forcing you to question or assess your current relationships, how you interact with others and how you allow them to interact with you. It’s good to periodically evaluate even the strongest relationship and check the foundation. Don’t give in to (ego-based) fears, focusing on the lack & limitation or what is not working, but instead build on your strengths and honor the goodness that you have created together, as well as in your Self. This is the best time for intentional solitude because the insights you acquire through this process will help you down the road to stabilize your future.

9/26 ~ Mercury (ideas, thoughts & concepts) ~square~ Pluto (rebirth & transformation):

This energy is a tough, yet powerful one. Its Highest expression would be to focus on your inner deep-dig, discovery & development of your Soul that is going on right now. It enables you to look beneath the surface to some core drives and gain some valuable insights and thus, choose a plan of action based on your findings. You will want to know all the hidden meanings behind decisions you’ve made or want to make soon. Dig – you may find more than you think you’re ready for, but apparently the Universe thinks differently! Pay attention and try not to worry about what anyone else thinks or believes. This energy’s flip-side is to make you obsess over one particular idea and try to force others to your way of thinking. That can be a bottomless pit – you cannot truly change the way other people think – you can only change the way you think and hope it enlightens others along the way … and it will, for those who are tuned in to your level. Try to only focus on you and your direction.

9/26 ~ Venus Circle w LEILAH: This is going to be a very special call because I will have a guest teacher, Leilah Nancy Ward of IntegralSoul.love. We are officially launching the Reclamation side of the Venus Cycle. It’s time to go out at sunset and look for her to Rise as the Evening Star this month. And it is time to renew your connection to what is most important to you. Theoretically, you’ve created some space with all the release-work you’ve done over the last 9+ months. Because the Universe abhors a vacuum and will always look to fill the space you’ve created, Leilah is going to offer us additional tools that will help us consciously choose what we are going to *RECLAIM* going forward.

This month, we Reclaim at the Crown Chakra in Libra, so the idea is to invite your Higher Self to awaken a new seedling of an idea in your consciousness that you can expand & express going forward. Libra has to do with balance, reciprocity & all manner of relationships, partnerships & collaborations and your Crown Chakra represents your Highest Wisdom & Consciousness so it is time to claim a new idea & concept of conscious equal partnership and what I refer to as: creative collaborations, reciprocal relationships & profitable partnerships – all of which we can claim anew because we have earned it through our work with Venus over the last year or so. Lastly, it is a good time to think about what “idea” you want “in form” by May 2020.

9/28 ~ Venus (relationships) ~sextile~ Jupiter (optimism):

This energy expands your relationships, personal or professional, allowing you to gain traction in expressing the Highest vibration that’s possible for that particular connection. In personal relationships, things are sociable, light & fun. In professional or public relationships, things can go more smoothly as folks are more relaxed & easy-going, upbeat & open to exchanging ideas & concepts. This energy activates our innate optimism and natural positive thinking, so it is a good time to look into expanding your knowledge base in some way that makes you more valuable to the team. You’ll have that connection to your instincts and confidence with others that is a winning combination!

9/28 ~ LIBRA Super/New Moon:

The Libra New Moon is an excellent time to set your intentions for restored balance within your own Being, enabling healthier relationships, naturally. Keep in mind you will always attract your own *Vibrational Match* … so how’s your vibe these days? Inviting, welcoming … or … guarded and suspicious? This is the month to set intentions around conscious equal partnership, whether public or private, short-term or long-term, balance is the key. This is the month to honor The Scales that we must weigh our personal progress against our obvious manifestations in relationships (for better or worse). It’s time to assess the strength & value of each one (one-by-one) and what kind of time, energy & resources you have and are willing to invest further with this person, situation or agreement. Soulful kinship and a sense of belonging are vital for most humans and this year, we will cultivate that more than ever. We can renegotiate as we go, at regular intervals, and I highly recommend that you do. We can be part of something without being burdened by it. We can have soulful connections without losing ourselves. We can still love each other even if/when we do not agree. It’s time to define your individual terms and start renegotiating with those who matter, while releasing those people, situations or agreements which are no longer relevant or useful.

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snail-drop · 7 years

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Genuine question why did you make the character who is a dark skinned bisexual man the representation of the devil instead of fucking anyone else

Thank you for the question; I’m publishing it because I think it’s important that I get feedback on this! It’s definitely something I considered while selecting him for the card, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to talk about it.

The Devil card is popularly associated with lust and/or being addicted. It can tell us that we have bad habits that we need to break free from, to be wary of traps, or invite us to look at the things in our lives that are holding us back from what we should be doing. It can indicate a person with a strong personality that we are drawn to, or call the reader to endure and struggle through something difficult (interpretations on it, like all cards, vary). The most popular depiction of the card shows a devil/satyr with an inverted pentagram on/over his head, sort of presiding over two (presumable) lovers who are chained below him. It’s worth noting that their chains are loose enough for them to pull off if they so wish.I specifically drew Niles as an enchained “lover”, not the devil (who would not be chained up), but changed the “x” on his eyepatch to the inverted pentagram to both keep the imagery there, and to symbolize that, yeah, he has the power here. Both the power to entrap and to break free (he has the Locktouch skill, after all).To me, Niles was the best fit for this card considering both his personality and backstory. I could’ve chosen a different character for the card… King Garon could have been another option, though he’s not portrayed with light skin either (cool trend, Fire Emblem). The themes of sexuality and addiction would also fit Rhajat, but we run into a similar problem in that she’s the only other bisexual character (and I wanted to keep the cards to generally 1st gen/main-ish characters for cohesive/canon purposes). Charlotte, I now realize, could have been an option… but I didn’t even think of her, since I didn’t really ever use/like her (I leaned towards looking into characters that I liked), and it’s a little too late now. I don’t mean to use that as an excuse, since the card has been drawn and I made the choice weighing my feelings on it, but yeah. Something for me to think of in the future.

I want to talk about just Niles for a moment (and briefly other relevant characters). Fire Emblem hasn’t quite dealt with queer and dark-skinned characters very well. Our first queer marriage-candidate options are hyper-sexualized characters; one with a terrible, unsavory past who enjoys making others feel uncomfortable, the other a literal stalker obsessed with the dark arts. The only other darker-skinned character among the good guys in Fates is Benny, who is an absolute sweetheart… with the joke being that he “looks scary”.Hm.I love Niles. He’s one of my favorite characters. I’m queer too, and I’ll take what characters I can get in video games to identify with. I feel for him. He says his past is behind him, but it has painted his world-view and he can be cruel… but surprisingly, he uses that harshness to wake people up and change them. He draws strong negative reactions from some people, but also breaks them free of things they’re holding on to. He’s fun. I view him as a struggling character with a lot of internal conflict, who clings to the things that he wants. I’d be lying if I said I don’t still think he fits the meaning of the Devil card perfectly.But his character flaws/backstory in combination with being one of two darker-skinned characters and queer characters in this cast is problematic. I don’t deny that.So, as the artist, I had to weigh one against the other. The problematic status vs. who he is as a character that I love. I bear the responsibility for that. At the end of the day, yes, I did choose one of the two darkest skinned men in Fates who also is bisexual to be portrayed on The Devil card (even if he is not portrayed as “the devil” character, it could be seen that way). I’m going to take this concern into account for the future, and try to make more mindful choices as an artist.So thanks again for the ask, and I hope that for the time being you can understand my thought process behind the card. Sorry the reply was pretty long, but this all has been in my head for a while, so I wanted to get it out there!

#jeroran

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Through the Mist (Ch.16)

Chapter XVI: Dinah and Camila’s Troublesome Adventure

–––

A/N: HEY GUYS. I’M BACK. YA MISSED ME?

i hope you guys were okay while i was gone. i really missed ya’ll. sorry it took like 3 months lol.

yesterday was so great with the women’s march on washington, and really, all around the world. i loved to see all the support and love surging through the streets, and i’m really glad that lauren and so many other celebrities were a part of it. love trumps hate.

(this is really late - like a month late) to address any lingering concerns, i will continue to support all five girls with equal fervor as i was a proud OT5 stan before camila’s exit. no negativity in my book please. that is all.

oh and this chapter will be the longest i’ve ever published at 18.5k words so i hope you guys don’t mind lol. i just needed all of this to be said and established so i could continue with the plot.

also, i will start to recap the previous chapter if an update takes more than a month to publish. i understand the difficulty of rereading a past chapter to understand what’s going on in a delayed update so i’ll make it easy for ya’ll. :)

and for those eager to delve into caminah’s hidden past, here you go - it’s a freaking lot (mind the title). i don’t know how it got so long but it did. just giving you all a heads-up so please be open-minded. later on, the past is in italics. and yes, there will be some camren, just be patient.

go ahead and read on, and don’t forget to comment ;) i hope ya’ll enjoy!

—

WARNING: Smut. [Not Camren]

Previously in TTM,

After the girls realize that they need Artemis’s help to find Apollo, they set out to find her in the woods, only to be ambushed by the Manticore. Normani and Camila are heavily injured with Camila almost bleeding out. Camila barely survives until the Hunters of Artemis intervene.

The five are taken to the Hunters’ base where Camila is healed by Artemis herself. The goddess admits that she is unable to help them but promises to gain some intel for all their troubles. Camila then meets a captivating Thalia Grace and something sparks between them. Jealous, Lauren storms off as Camila lets the attention get to her head by continuing to flirt with Thalia.

Camila soon realizes that she’s being ridiculous and runs after Lauren, assuring her that she was the only princess for her dragon. Thalia interrupts and informs them that Artemis may have a lead to their quest but they’re running out of time.

–––

The walk to Artemis’s tent was quite eventful as a handful of older Hunters trained their attention on Camila with interested eyes, all thanks to the stunt she pulled earlier. Their gazes were smoldering and intrusive, and Camila found herself tightening her hold on Lauren’s hand, anchoring herself to the daughter of Poseidon.

A smug smile twitched on Lauren’s lips, her green eyes flashing daringly at the other immortals, silently challenging them. She wasn’t going to sit by the sidelines and watch these beautiful archers take her dragon. She was going to do what she was taught the moment she entered camp; to fight for herself and the people she held dear.

No Hunter stepped forward and Lauren moved closer to Camila, standing taller in triumph.

The duo neared the large, centered tent and Thalia led them inside, following soon after, her piercing eyes alert and focused. It was her instinct to always be prepared for battle, and she would protect her Hunters until her last breath as their Lieutenant.

Camila and Lauren stepped into the main tent and they were immediately bathed in warmth. They stood in awe of their surroundings, their wide eyes wandering over everything.

The inside of the tent appeared very comfortable and homey due to the silk rugs and pillows that covered the floor. Different types of animal pelts draped the walls, both actual and mythical. There was a golden brazier of fire in the middle of the large space without any obvious source of fuel or smoke. Behind the hearth was Artemis’s silver bow, displayed on a polished oak stand.

Ally was off to the side, sitting across the auburn-haired immortal. The two other Latinas were quick to join her on the tent floor, uneasy about the abrupt summoning. Camila still held onto Lauren’s hand, refusing to let go.

The goddess smiled at them, seated in front of the fireplace. A deer with shimmering fur and silver horns was curled next to her, sleeping contently. Thalia sat to Artemis’s right as her rank required. “Hello, girls. I hope you have recovered from your rough encounter with the Manticore.”

Her old gray eyes darted to Camila’s bandaged midsection. “I’m glad to see that you healed properly. Many half-bloods do not survive an injury like that. You are strong.” A wry smile curved her mouth. “It’s quite unfortunate that I cannot recruit you due to your past. Shame, you would have made a valiant Hunter, unforgettable amongst my ranks.”

Camila was speechless at the goddess’s compliment and forced herself not to face Lauren’s varied expression. She could only survive so much shock and embarrassment in one day. “Th - Thank you. It would have been an honor.”

Artemis’s eyes gleamed with light amusement. “Having you would have been a great addition,” she concluded. “The first-ever pyrokinetic Hunter. My, what an interesting thought.”

Before Camila could comment, Dinah and Normani entered the tent, laughing loudly, large grins plastered on their faces. Dinah’s hair was more tousled and her cheek dimple was on display. Their hands were joined and they seemed to cling onto each other.

Camila’s eyes dropped from Dinah’s flushed face and plump lips to her long fingers interlaced with Normani’s. She frowned, her hold on Lauren’s hand loosening.

Before, back in the SUV, the scene didn’t bother her that much but it was…different this time around.

Camila couldn’t explain the sudden change. All she wanted was to support her best friend but her heart wasn’t in it. A million thoughts ran through her mind and her throat constricted painfully at one in particular, one she hadn’t dared to think about.

Is she… Is she finally moving on?

A sudden weight set itself on her chest and Camila tightly gripped Lauren’s hand to fight off her trembling body. She felt as if the ground was slowly swallowing her whole, her body stiff, struggling to breathe.

She hated that it affected her like this. She thought she would be over it, just as Dinah appeared to be.

She got over it pretty quick… Maybe Normani was better… I can’t blame her, the girl’s a literal goddess.

Camila wanted to laugh at how masochistic she was being. She always ended up hurting herself rather than the source of her anguish.

From the start, Camila knew it was going to happen eventually but she knew she wasn’t going to prepared for when it actually happened.

Afterall, who would ever be ready to see their first love move on?

I’m never going to have her again. That thought alone was a literal stab to the heart.

The brunette went numb as Dinah plopped down next to her, oblivious to the girl’s inner turmoil.

Normani was by her side, resting her head on Dinah’s shoulder. Their hands were still together and Dinah was lazily rubbing circles into the back of Normani’s hand. Their breathing was steady and even, as if they had no care in the world than to be with each other.

It was such a normal and peaceful sight that Camila thought she was going to suffocate from her overwhelming emotions. She fought to keep it buried, knowing that her emotions were linked with her powers. She couldn’t afford to hurt anyone, even if it meant burning alive in her own internal wildfire.

A small fire flickered within her chest, slowly eating at her. The flame that once fueled her hope was consuming her. Camila bit her tongue at the searing heat boiling in her gut.

Being fireproof wasn’t enough to protect herself from being burned by love.

Artemis cleared her throat, quite aware of the sudden tension that sparked inside the tent. The deer in her lap shifted. Her gray eyes sent Camila an apologetic look which only made her feel worse.

Camila forced herself to look at the ground before her, their words falling on deaf ears. She couldn’t focus when her old world was finally crumbling around her, crushing her with its unbearable weight.

“Although I could not help you at first, a friend of mine has sent for you.” The goddess paused, stroking the deer between its flattened ears. “They may have the answer to your question about the ‘chaos’ entity so I advise that you heed her summoning.”

None of the girls spoke up against the order as they were desperate for more information. This invitation was the biggest lead they’ve had since they left camp and they weren’t about to lose it.

Lauren was drawing random patterns in Camila’s warm palm but the brunette didn’t feel a thing, too wrapped up in her thoughts. She wanted to move on, for the sake of her feelings for Lauren and for Dinah. Camila didn’t want to be the anchor that pulled on everyone else.

Ally shyly raised her hand. “My lady, as you know, we’re reaching on time and I was wondering if you could assist us on getting there.”

The auburn-haired girl smiled at the polite request. “Why of course, Allyson. For all of your troubles, I will certainly help, though I am restricted.”

Her brows knitted together, her lips pursing at the disappointing thought. “I can only help so much without getting caught by my father or pinning more monsters on your tail. The predicaments of being an immortal I suppose.

"But,” her silver eyes twinkled, “a little rule breaking never hurt anyone. I am Zeus’s second favorite child after all. Athena only gets first because she sprang out of his head.”

Artemis carefully adjusted the sleeping deer so it was now cuddling with one of the larger pillows. “Poor thing would not be able to sleep if not for my protection. My Hunters have grown quite fond of him and he provides the most delightful entertainment.”

The goddess and Thalia rise from the plush floor, the five other half-bloods following in suit. The sudden action jolted Camila out of her head and brought her back to reality. She was still trying to process her colliding past and present so Lauren gripped her hand and gently guided her.

“Follow me,” the immortal instructed, “We must hurry. Every passing second is precious.”

Artemis led the demigods out of the main tent and toward the back of it. Parked behind the massive tent was an entirely silver chariot and four golden reindeer with silver horns. The four creatures were fastened to the chariot by their harness and they all bowed their heads at Artemis’s entrance respectfully.

The sight triggered a familiar memory for the five girls and Camila almost smiled, snapping out of her unusual sadness.

Before she could stop herself, Dinah blurted, “You stole Santa’s sleigh?”

Really, Dinah? Camila wanted to facepalm, all previous depressing thoughts vanishing.

Normani lightly shoved her shoulder, embarrassed that the girl would accuse a goddess of such a thing. Dinah’s face went red and she ducked her head. Lauren scoffed while Ally giggled at the abruptness of the situation.

A small chuckle managed to leave Thalia, her electric eyes crinkling with amusement. She never tired of the half-bloods’ reactions.

Artemis smiled at the exclamation. “It’s more like he stole my chariot. Where else do you think the legend came from? I have been alive much longer than that portly stalker.”

Before anyone could comment on Santa Claus’s given description, Artemis walked up to the reindeer and snapped her fingers, the restraints magically unlocking. The four reindeer huffed in gratitude, the leader nuzzling Artemis’s hand.

The goddess rubbed the creature’s head, her fingers weaving through its soft fur. She appeared mesmerized by the animal. “Thalia will take you to my friend. She is located somewhere along the lines of your journey so you will not stray off course.”

“My lady,” Thalia intervened, her right hand resting over the pommel of her sheathed sword. “How will I escort them?”

Artemis cocked her head at the question. “Why, with my Moon Chariot, but not exactly so.”

Suddenly, the silver chariot glowed brightly before transforming into a standard white van. The five half-bloods gaped at the change, amazed by the goddess’s powers.

I know I have fire powers and all, but that was insanely cool.

Artemis handed Thalia a set of keys with a knowing look. “I know you hate flying so I made it convenient for you. You already know where to go. Protect them as if they were our own.”

The daughter of Zeus nodded accordingly. “As you wish, my lady. I will do my best.”

The goddess smiled fondly. “I expect nothing more of you.”

Artemis then ordered some of the nearby Hunters to collect the group’s belongings from the medical tent. With inhuman speed, the Hunters returned with five bags and packed them inside the large end of the white van. Artemis thanked them before continuing to pet the reindeer.

Thalia took charge and asked Phoebe, their leading medic, to come with her as backup and the girl instantly agreed, knowing that if anything should happen, she would be the most prepared. The two commanding Hunters bid their farewells with Artemis before climbing into the white van, Thalia as the driver and Phoebe as shotgun.

One by one, the demigods thanked Artemis and hopped into the back of the van. They were pleasantly surprised by the soft carpet floor and the two large foam pillows that acted as seats. It seemed that the goddess wanted the girls to have a comfortable journey.

Camila and Lauren were the last to board, and Camila turned to wave goodbye but halted at Artemis’s intense stare.

“Camila, Lauren,” Artemis started lowly, speaking only to the pair. “Please remember, some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it. May the gods be with you.”

Camila swallowed thickly and Lauren froze at her side, her green eyes wide with shock. Neither girl uttered a word, forever silenced by the two van doors closing on their face.

The van rumbled to life and Thalia waited until everyone settled in.

Lauren sat off the side, by the back of the van, still tense over what Artemis said. She had a deadly grip on her necklace, her hand quivering. Her pupils had dilated and she was lost in her own world, mindlessly picking at the plush floor. No one dared to bother her.

Ally and Normani were close to the front, talking about how to engage with the immortal’s friend while Dinah was reaching into her bag for a snack, positioned close to where Camila was sitting.

Camila’s chest still hurt from before and she longed for a well-deserved nap. The pain from her abdomen rushed to her heart and she feared that she was both physically and emotionally exhausted. She supposed that a few hours of sleep could conquer her overwhelming emotions.

Grabbing her backpack, Camila curled up against it, the soft carpet floor a blessing to her healing body. She could do without a blanket since she was a literal walking heater. A relieved sigh passed through her lips as she laid in the middle of the moving van.

Her hand crept to her side, lightly pressing on the bandages under her shirt. She cringed at the slight twinge. She never knew how cold death was until today. It changed her perspective on life, reminding her that life was too short to be wasted. Artemis was right when she said every passing second was precious.

Camila groaned at the familiar throbbing in her right temple and she turned on her side, forcing herself to sleep. At that point, she didn’t care about the impending demigod dreams. She just wanted to escape reality and lose herself in her subconscious.

With no further protest, Camila’s eyes fluttered closed and she welcomed the darkness.

–––

And the darkness embraced her.

Camila blinked, quickly realizing that she was in a dark, secluded alleyway, only lit by a lone streetlamp. The thick smell of salt water filled her nostrils. Small puddles surrounded her feet, the atmosphere heavy with an incoming thunderstorm.

I just had to jinx it, didn’t I?

The air was suffocating, the lack of light blinding, and she was rooted in place, set at the end of the alley. A chill ran down her spine at the sight of two familiar figures at the other end of the lane. This time, she could see them more clearly.

One of them was a tall male with dirty blond hair. He was little over six feet and athletically lean, not bulky and muscular. However, it didn’t make him look any less intimidating. The man wore a black trench coat with matching shades. A sheathed sword was at his side and he appeared tense. His face was obscured by the darkness so Camila couldn’t gain any significant details.

His companion was a female, slightly shorter than him. She had long, shaggy black hair with tinted shades covering her eyes. The woman was dressed as if she was appointed to kill someone later, complete with a pair of black cargo pants and a leather jacket. Her muscular frame didn’t help in the matter. All Camila could place was the firm scowl on her face, due to the dim lighting.

“Why have you summoned me?” the woman gruffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “The godlings are getting closer and I should be getting ready to attack.”

“Patience, dear aunt. In time, their blood will run through your hands,” the man assured with a raised hand. His voice was a dead giveaway that these people were the same from the last dream. “And you know our deal with Karla.”

Camila’s heart skipped a beat before it leaped up her throat. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she prayed that they wouldn’t be able to find her.

What does he want with me?

The woman growled, stepping toward him. “Why should I comply, puny nephew? I could smite you right now. You are nothing but a disgrace.”

“You know what I’m going to do,” the man spoke quietly, brushing off the insult. “I cannot allow you to kill the light of the group. She is mine.”

Camila swallowed thickly at the implication and balled her hands into fists. She bit her tongue to refrain from spewing out Spanish profanities.

This guy is planning something and unfortunately, it includes me. Gods help me.

“And what if she’s not the light? The daughter of Apollo could well be the one of the prophecy. Both are potential threats to our cause. We could just kill them now and—”

“I said no!” the man barked out in frustration, his voice echoing. He huffed, running a hand through his hair. “The plan does not allow the early deaths of Allyson, Dinah Jane, Karla, Lauren, and Normani. We cannot strike directly, it’s beneath us. You know this.”

Goosebumps erupted along Camila’s arms at the mentions of their names. She hated that these immortals knew more about them and not vice versa. They weren’t getting anything at this point.

The woman went silent, slightly impressed with his guts. “Then what do we do?”

“All we can do is,” he started, sounding extremely tired, “sit back and wait.”

His partner scoffed loudly, offended by the order to stay put. She was a woman of action. “And what of your warning of family intruding? What then?”

“We have orders,” the man spoke tightly, regretting this slip of information. “Atlas demands that we allow any gods to intervene. We must be discreet. Someone is awaiting them. We would raise questions if the half-bloods all ended up dead before then. The Olympians would attack us themselves and we would fail.”

Honestly, Camila saw the blonde’s reasoning, though she didn’t agree, and she could tell that his point reached his partner as she grounded her jaw in thought.

The woman held back a groan of frustration, given away by the low rumbling in the back of her throat. It was obvious that she wasn’t much for elaborate plans. Camila knew it took a lot of restraint for her to not strangle the man. “I prefer the saying 'good things come to those who hustle,’” she admitted gruffly before turning her back to him.

The man ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed. “Patience, aunt. Besides, do you know what is better than a faded light?” he asked softly. It was clear that he did not want to further provoke the older immortal.

“Stygian darkness?” she answered inattentively, glaring at the ground.

“No,” he answered, slightly agitated by her lack of enthusiasm. He slowly turned his head, his covered eyes falling on Camila, her blood running cold. Camila could feel his eyes digging into her being even though he wore thick shades.

H - he can’t see me…right?

The blonde immortal chuckled maliciously, making both Camila and the older immortal stiffen. “A hot, blinding light.”

Suddenly, a searing white light invaded Camila’s mind and she clutched her head in agony, falling to her knees in pain. An incredible heat consumed her, her usual resistance shattering.

Her last thought was linked to something Chiron once told her in camp. Is this how it feels like to see a god transport in front of you?

Before she could possibly cry out, Camila blacked out from the light’s abrupt intensity, spiraling into a darker, colder abyss.

–––

Camila’s body trembled slightly before she went still, her blunt nails pressed firmly against the soft floor of the van. Her brows were knitted together, sweat beading at her temple.

Dinah noticed the fidgeting from the corner of her eye and gradually crawled over to the sleeping brunette, sitting by her side. A tender smile pulled at her lips at the sight, her heart beating steadily in her chest.

Camila mumbled something incoherent, her body subconsciously shifting toward Dinah’s sudden presence. Her body seeked the familiarity. Camila nuzzled her head into the plush carpet, her forehead pressing against the side of Dinah’s thigh. She inhaled deeply, a faint smile forming on her face.

The daughter of Ares sighed, her hands slowly delving into Camila’s long locks. She ran her nimble fingers through the girl’s hair, enjoying how silky the strands felt on her skin. Dinah knew that whenever Camila was restless in her sleep, the sensation of someone playing with her hair always calmed her.

The reaction was immediate as Camila’s body loosened, her muscles no longer tight. A quiet snore escaped her and her face regained a neutral composition.

Dinah hummed lowly in triumph, her eyes lingering over Camila’s serene face. A corner of her mouth dipped at the three vertical scratches along the brunette’s right cheek. They were thin but obvious on her face.

The blonde forced a small smile, momentarily tracing the scars on Camila’s face. Her touch was delicate, as if she feared that she would cause the girl more pain. She quickly leaned in and gently kissed the white marks before resuming to massage her friend’s head.

She knew that Camila, unfortunately, had a knack of playing the hero, regardless of the cost. Being a child of war, Dinah thought she would understand the true value of voluntary sacrifice and support her best friend, but it pained her to see Camila get hurt, even if for a good cause.

In her opinion, Camila wasn’t deserving of such pain and misery. It was unjust as all Camila had done was the right and noble thing.

Continuing to run her hands through Camila’s hair, Dinah didn’t notice Lauren approaching her with a blank expression.

“Hey,” the older girl whispered, not wanting to wake Camila. She sat across from Dinah, the pyrokinetic demigod acting as the median between them. Lauren fought the urge to run her fingers along Camila’s back.

“Hey, Lauser,” Dinah replied, her attention set on the other Latina.

A tense silence engulfed them. For a moment, the two girls were quiet, not sure how to proceed. It was evident that they both cared for the daughter of Hephaestus, but how much, neither knew.

Lauren subtly observed Dinah and her actions toward Camila before she slightly bowing her head. Her fingers toyed with the strands of the carpet, tracing random shapes into the softness. “When did you two meet?” she inquired, knowing that Dinah was Camila’s best friend.

“Met this idiot during timeout in fourth grade,” Dinah answered, lightly rubbing Camila’s scalp. “Even as kids, we were such badasses.”

The Cuban cracked a smile, remembering what Camila told her in the camp forge. “So she tells me. You had quite the track record.”

Dinah snorted, knowing how Camila loved to over-exaggerate simple things for a humorous effect. “Not to brag, but I had more detentions than her.” Dinah tilted her head, grinning bashfully. “That day changed my life forever, if I’m being honest.”

Lauren’s eyes dropped from Dinah to Camila. She was envious of their relationship. She never had another fellow demigod as a childhood friend. “You two are really close, huh?”

A soft smile formed on Dinah’s face. “Yeah, we’ve been through a lot,” she murmured, still playing with Camila’s hair. Dinah sighed heavily, letting her inner thoughts flow. “Strangers, friends, best friends, lovers—”

Lauren’s hand shot up, interrupting her. She was left in utter shock after the small admission. Her wide green eyes flitted between Camila and Dinah. “Wait, you two dated?” she exclaimed.

Dinah’s eyes widened as large as saucers at her slip up. “I - I uh, I mean, yeah we used to. Didn’t Camila tell you? I thought she would have told you…” Her dark eyes dropped to the sleeping brunette.

Lauren just gaped at the two girls, never imagining that the two best friends would ever be a couple. “She never told me anything. When did you guys date?” she quickly questioned, flushing at how eager and demanding she sounded.

The blonde bit her lower lip, considering whether or not to reveal her and Camila’s past. With a short glance at Camila, she decided that it was time. The more they suppressed it, the worse it would be in the end.

Dinah exhaled heavily. “We started dating during the spring break of our sophomore year and we broke up later in September, at the start of our junior year,” she confessed roughly. “To tell ya the truth, it was one of the best summers of my life.” She swallowed thickly, her emotions getting the better of her.

The daughter of Ares hadn’t told anyone that she and Camila used to date after their breakup at the start of junior year. The two girls just subconsciously pushed the ordeal aside and remained best friends, regardless of their failed romantic relationship.

Lauren remained silent, trying to soak in all this jarring information. Her eyes kept darting between Camila and Dinah, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. She licked her lips, carefully gathering her reaction. “How, uh, how did you two fall out?”

Dinah cleared her throat, the question clearly touching a sore spot. Her fingers froze in Camila’s hair. Even Camila was still in her sleep. Dinah pursed her lips and simply said, “I didn’t love her as much as she loved me.”

Lauren was speechless at the revelation. She couldn’t even imagine how hurt Camila was when Dinah told her this months ago, but she couldn’t exactly blame Dinah either. Neither girl was at fault. It was impossible to force pure, genuine love.

She would have never guessed that all this happened between these two happy, best friends. Lauren supposed that they were extremely close before engaging in an amorous relationship.

“I…I’m sorry,” Lauren murmured, unsure of what to say. Hesitantly, she reached out and set her hand on Camila’s arm, apologizing to her as well. Camila was still.

Dinah swallowed harshly, willing herself to run her hand through Camila’s hair. “I should probably start from the beginning if I already told you this much.” She turned her head, noting the sleeping forms of Normani and Ally before nodding to herself, facing Lauren again.

Her dark eyes held an entire story behind them and Lauren was grateful that Dinah was going to tell her about it. She was now delving into Camila’s past and she would avidly listen.

Dinah managed a small smile, looking down at a slumbering Camila for support. Unbeknownst to her, the brunette was dreaming of their old relationship as well.

“It was just our troublesome adventure, and it started off with a starry night before it became something more…”

–––

The stars twinkled above Camila as she leaned back against the thick edge of her dorm building’s rooftop. The night air was comfortably warm as it was late May, only a soft breeze keeping Camila at ease. The peace and quiet was a blessing on her ears. She hadn’t felt this carefree in long time.

She checked her wristwatch, surprised that it was 3 AM when she wasn’t nearly as tired as she was supposed to be.

Camila tugged on the hem of her red t-shirt and was grateful that she wore thin sweatpants when they decided to sneak up onto the roof. The floor was cold and rough, a stark contrast to the weather.

She wondered how Dinah managed when all she wore was a white v-neck shirt and black sweatshorts.

Camila made a mental note to divert her gaze from Dinah’s long, tan legs. Her legs can go on for miles… Her cheeks flushed and Camila forced herself to look up at the sky.

A few empty bottles of wine coolers were scattered around her, a half-full bottle in her grasp. She managed to smuggle some for her and Dinah from one of the older kids on her floor. Camila smiled at how easy it was to steal from the juniors and took a long swing of her drink, the alcohol no longer burning her throat.

“Hey, take it easy, Walz,” Dinah warned from her side. The blonde slowly sipped from her wine cooler. “You don’t wanna be hangover for tomorrow. We only have a few days of being freshmen left.”

“Who cares? We’ll still be underclassmen,” Camila mumbled sluggishly. She grinned at her bright red drink. “Man, this really is the good stuff. Juniors weren’t kidding when they said this had more alcohol in it than the others. Probably mixed it with something else.”

Dinah snorted at her rambling. “Is that your fifth drink?”

“…Maybe.”

The blonde threw her head back in a laugh. “God, you’re so stupid.” Her cheek dimple was proudly visible on her face, making Camila’s stare linger. Her heart thumped harder in her chest without her permission.

“Yeah, I’m really stupid,” she agreed lowly, gulping down more of her wine cooler. Camila sat up straighter, scowling at a sudden thought. “You know what else is stupid? The fact that I can’t get a girlfriend because people are afraid of coming out in this stupid school.”

Denton Academy was horribly strict on any kind of sexual relationship, heterosexual or otherwise, believing that it was another way of rebelling against the school board. Any public display of affection was intolerable and the guilty couple was immediately punished. It didn’t help that most of the meaner, more popular delinquents were against homosexuality.

Ironically, Camila knew of all the “hangout” places on campus. She could clearly remember the last time she accidentally walked in on someone, and it nearly traumatized her because it involved an older, sleazy teacher who was blackmailing a shirtless senior girl who was caught with her fleeing boyfriend.

Let’s just say that the teacher was promptly fired and went home with a busted nose and a black eye, all courtesy of freshman Camila.

“Camila, you’re not gonna be alone forever,” Dinah started, worriedly looking at her best friend. She knew what was coming.

Camila was gay and yearned to be in an open relationship with someone but the school restricted her ability to do so. She wanted someone worth coming out of the closet for. It had been two years since she came out to Dinah in tears and Dinah held her for hours, assuring her that she loved her no matter what.

“Yes I will,” the Latina whined. The liquid courage exposed her innermost thoughts. “Like, I’m fifteen and I still haven’t gotten my first kiss yet. I always see people in relationships and I’m always alone. I’m probably going to die alone too.”

“Chancho, don’t say that—”

“But it’s true!” Camila argued, her shoulders slumping. “What kind of person wants to date me anyway? I’m a freaking disaster.” Another drink of her wine cooler. “I’m just a girl with a bad record and a stupid personality, but she’s so perfect, Dinah, like you wouldn’t even begin to understand.”

Camila’s chest ached at the thought of the girl. If only you knew, China.

Dinah knew of Camila’s alleged crush but she was never told who it was. The blonde suspected that it was an upperclassmen so she didn’t want to raise Camila’s hopes up by encouraging her to confront this mystery girl. Camila didn’t deserve heartbreak this early in life.

The younger girl finished her third drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she listened to her best friend, her body buzzing. Dinah felt such sympathy for her friend and all she wanted to do was make her happy. Her mind wrought for a solution. She reached for another colored bottle.

Camila’s russet eyes were wide as she continued to drunkenly ramble over her crush with excited hand gestures. A lazy smile was plastered on her face.

“She has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen and her hair—God, her hair—looks so soft and thick. She has the most beautiful smile and I just wanna kiss her so bad, but I don’t know how to because I’ve never had my first kiss and I never will—”

“Camila.”

The Latina abruptly halted, her head turning to her best friend in confusion. Dinah had been unusually quiet while she babbled absentmindedly.

Dinah scooted closer to her, her gaze intent on Camila. “I have an idea.” She licked her lips and leaned in to cup Camila’s cheek.

Camila’s heart leapt up her throat at their close proximity. Dinah’s scent hit her nose and she suddenly felt dizzy for another reason besides the alcohol. She searched in Dinah’s eyes for an answer but found nothing but dark, cloudy orbs staring back at her.

“Can I kiss you?” Dinah asked politely, though very tipsy, her thumb lightly rubbing the corner of Camila’s mouth, leaving fire in its wake. “Can I be your first kiss, Walz?”

Camila’s throat constricted, her mouth running dry. She’s asking for permission… Camila could smell the alcohol in Dinah’s breath but the back of her mind said, drunk words are sober thoughts, and she could only wish that this was the case. A small flame of hope then ignited in her gut, making the decision for her.

She barely managed a small nod and Dinah grinned at being accepted, her cheek dimple making Camila’s heart hammer in her ribcage. Her eyes fluttered shut, awaiting the moment.

Dinah slowly leaned in and softly pressed their lips together. Camila inhaled deeply at the new sensation, her gut tightening immensely. She hesitantly reciprocated, her pulse feeling like a sledgehammer. She was engulfed in a thick heat, hotter and brighter than any fireworks display.

Something clicked inside Camila as they kissed under the stars. Camila had never been so warm than in that instant. She no longer felt the chill of the breeze. In that moment, she felt alive and free.

The kiss was short-lived as Dinah pulled away, leaving Camila breathless and with hope implanted in her heart. Her mouth was agape as she attempted to register her first kiss, her body buzzing with happiness. Her dark eyes were wide as she stared at Dinah for a reaction.

Dinah’s hand fell to her side and Camila immediately missed it, itching to take it in her own.

The blonde laughed at her best friend’s gawking expression. “That good, huh?” Dinah ran a hand through her tousled locks and Camila just wanted to kiss her again. She was addicted and only more could sedate her.

Swallowing hard, Camila snorted and brushed the girl off. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cheechee. You were okay, at most.”

Camila tried to stay nonchalant but inside, she was screaming at the top of her lungs in utter joy. She had just kissed her crush of two years. She had started falling for Dinah at the start of seventh grade, and God, it felt like so long ago. Camila felt like she could do anything…but kiss her best friend again, much less confess her feelings for her.

Dinah rolled her eyes and adopted her previous position of leaning against the roof’s tall edge. She took a swing of her fourth wine cooler. “Whatever you say. I’m an amazing kisser,” she gloated before trailing off. “Well, at least I think so because you were my first kiss too so,” Dinah shrugged helplessly.

The brunette blushed hard at the thought of being Dinah’s first kiss as well. She’s an incredible kisser but I’ll never admit that. Her head’s as big as it is. I just hope that I was good enough.

Camila bowed her head as she pressed her back against the concrete border. She sloshed the red liquid in the glass bottle distractedly, trapped with her overwhelming thoughts. Her fingertips ghosted over her sensitive lips, which still tingled from the aftershocks of her first kiss.

The two girls remained silent, letting the previous situation loom over them. Camila nibbled on her lip, considering the outcomes to their kiss. The sounds of crickets chirping kept Camila’s busy mind company.

“Hey, we should go back inside,” Dinah advised, stifling a yawn, finished with her fourth drink.

Camila licked her lips, checking the time. It was almost four in the morning and she was starting to get tired. “Yeah, we should go.”

The pair collected the wine cooler bottles and placed them in the overflowing crate that was by the entrance to the rest of the building. It appeared that many other students had visited the roof. The roof is a really good place to escape, Camila thought in agreement.

Before Dinah could pull the door open, Camila reached for her wrist, the touch zapping her awake. “Dinah, wait.”

The blonde’s brows knitted together as she turned around to face her flustered best friend. Her innocent expression drove Camila insane. “What’s the matter, Walz?”

Camila’s cheeks flared up at Dinah’s warm gaze. “I, uh… T - thank you for being my first kiss, I guess,” she murmured shyly, audible enough for Dinah to hear.

The ends of Dinah’s eyes crinkled as she smiled softly, Camila’s weakness returning to her tan cheek.

God, she has galaxies in her eyes… The stars don’t even begin to compare.

Camila never had a standing chance.

Dinah took Camila’s hand in her own and squeezed lightly. Camila’s heart fluttered. “What are best friends for?” she responded simply before letting go—as if their lives would simply revert back to normal—and opened the door, leading to the hall where their dorm rooms were.

Camila’s kindling hope dwindled slightly as she stepped toward her retreating best friend before pausing, still processing. She was determined to keep her beacon of hope burning.

Camila could only stand there, her lips still tingling, and watch as Dinah left with her heart in her unknowing hands. She couldn’t think of another person who she’d be willing to give up her heart for, even if it hurt her in the end.

And to think that that was only the beginning for the two of them.

–––

Two months and eight days.

With an additional sixteen hours and seventeen minutes, if Camila was keeping track…which she obviously wasn’t.

It had been that long ago when Camila confessed her feelings for her best friend and first love.

Ironically, it happened on April 1st, their first official day of spring break. The two girls were mildly hungover from a party the night before and it just slipped out once she and Dinah returned to their shared dorm room during the early hours of the morning.

Looking back on it, Camila wanted to facepalm at how careless she was. She was so intoxicated that she admitted to liking Dinah since middle school in just a hastily unbuttoned plaid shirt and boy shorts, as she had ripped off her jeans as soon as she set foot the dorm room.

Camila didn’t exactly picture that as her outfit for when she revealed her prolonged crush on the gorgeous blonde.

Dinah blinked at the heartfelt confession, her brows furrowing in mild confusion. Initially, she thought it was a joke as it was April Fools’ Day and Camila always tried to one-up Dinah in the pranking department, though horribly in vain. It also didn’t help when both friends were attempting to think clearly with their alcohol-ridden minds.

Instead of fleeing the scene, Camila stood firm and waited for a reaction, even if it ruined their long friendship. It was now or never, in her eyes.

She had fought back tears when Dinah remained silent, her dark eyes devoid of emotion, not meeting her gaze. Camila was about to leave their room when Dinah rose from her bed and caught her wrist, her touch warm and entrancing.

Camila’s heartbeat nearly staggered after Dinah admitted that she felt something for her too. The younger girl explained how her chest ached whenever she saw Camila with another girl. Her feelings for Camila had changed ever since that night under the stars and she wanted to act upon them.

With a tentative smile, Dinah told her that she’d love to give their relationship a try, weaving her fingers with Camila’s. A large grin split Camila’s face and she nodded vigorously, her body buzzing ecstatically. This would be the first stable relationship she would have with a girl, and it was both exhilarating and worrying. The brunette was beyond elated and her heart soared when Dinah kissed her.

It was the second kiss of many, and Camila cherished every single one.

“Mila, c'mon,” a familiar voice called out, snapping the Latina from her train of thought. “It’s hot and you promised me a drink.”

Camila turned her head to face her girlfriend, her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight of the sun shining down on Dinah’s exposed skin.

The Polynesian wore black shorts and a tight, white shirt with a pair of white Adidas trainers. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves. A pair of black sunglasses was tucked in her hair. Her outfit was casual but Camila still thought she looked beautiful.

Camila dressed in more laid back apparel. Showing off her toned abs, she sported a low, sleeveless black crop top, which also accented her strong arms. Camila also donned a pair of mixed floral print basketball shorts—courtesy of Dinah, who claimed they were cute. Black Chucks adorned the brunette’s feet. To top off her outfit, a black snapback sat backwards on her head. The dark tones of her attire complemented her tan skin.

Needless to say, Camila was hot and earned several looks while the couple strolled down the town street. However, Camila paid no attention to the leering eyes as her focus was trained on her excited girlfriend as the younger girl dragged her into a small coffee shop of a street plaza near both of their houses. They had traveled quite a bit to be close to home.

The duo was currently celebrating their last day as sophomores by escaping the academy’s secured campus to venture through the city of Miami. It was roughly eighty degrees out as it was past four in the afternoon and partly cloudy with an occasional gentle breeze, serving as the perfect weather to walk around aimlessly.

The palm trees gave Camila a sense of home and it lifted her spirits seeing them on their journey. She wished she could just take one and plant it by her dorm window back at the academy. It would really liven her day during a bad day at school.

Once inside the local coffee shop, the thick scent of caffeine invaded Camila’s nostrils. It was fairly busy with some people occupying the tables with cups and laptops. Camila licked her lips subconsciously and happily allowed Dinah to drag her to the waiting line.

Dinah leaned against the counter while ordering a medium caramel frappuccino, her eyes bright as she took everything in. It wasn’t often when the girls managed to ditch the academy to enjoy the civilian life. Most of the time, they were locked up in their dorms, heavily surveillanced by security. Camila thought it was worth the expulsion from the boarding school to take her girlfriend out on a date. Dinah deserved that much in her opinion.

The young woman who was their cashier smiled knowingly at the two girls, and Camila couldn’t help but grin in gratitude. It was always refreshing when the couple didn’t gain any criticism over their close relationship.

“I’ll take a medium mocha frappuccino,” Camila requested politely, her soft eyes flitting over the blonde’s enthusiastic figure. A small smirk painted her lips at the taller girl’s attempt to take out her wallet. She instantly took Dinah’s hand in hers, pulling her toward her. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.”

Camila fished out a twenty and the cashier took it, quickly returning her change, assuring them that she’d be back with their drinks.

Dinah thanked Camila by planting a quick kiss on her lips after the woman delivered their cold drinks. The cashier’s eyes shone with support and Camila couldn’t help the pride blooming in her chest at the accepting atmosphere of her hometown.

“You two are cute,” the woman commented with a small smile.

“Thank you,” Camila replied before leaving the shop with her hand firmly attached to Dinah’s.

The blonde grinned cheerfully in response while sipping on her frapuccino. She was amazed by the staggering difference between the town’s warm openness and the homophobic undertones of the strict academy.

The couple quickly exited the small establishment and continued down the street. Dinah licked her lips, glancing at her girlfriend. “You didn’t have to buy me a drink, y'know. I had money.”

A small smile twitched on Camila’s face. “Oh, I know, but I still had to. You know I’d do anything for you.” She squeezed Dinah’s hand in reassurance.

You have me curled around your finger without even knowing it.

Camila took a long sip of her beverage, her tongue enthralled by the cold caffeine. She licked her lips in approval, her body humming contently at the supply of sugar. She had almost forgotten how great the fast food was because of their stay at Denton. “Dude, this is so good.”

Unbeknownst to her, Dinah was watching her in admiration, her eyes shining under the Miami sun. A small smile curved her mouth at how focused the girl was with her drink. Her vision flitted from the slope of Camila’s nose to her strong jaw. “Yeah, it is.”

The brunette tilted her head up, catching Dinah’s gaze. Her heart fluttered at the warm, brown orbs staring back at her. She fought back a playful grin. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” the blonde dismissed fairly quickly, tearing her attention away from her cute girlfriend.

Camila’s brows furrowed together in confusion before she shrugged, resuming to drink her frappuccino. She sighed in satisfaction, enjoying the soft shining of the sun’s rays on her skin, the gentle breeze keeping her cool. She had her crush of two years at her side as her girlfriend and a refreshing drink in hand. Camila didn’t think she could be happier.

The couple entered a fairly large park near the street plaza. It was rather vacant, save for some other teenagers and college students. It made sense seeing that it was a school day and it was before five in the afternoon, the standard time adults left work. It would soon fill up afterwards since it was Friday.

The park was surprisingly spacious with multiple trails cutting through it. Wooden benches were positioned along the pathways. There were various trees in the park, several palm trees acting as a border around the green space. You could simply relax under a tree for shade as the grass was lush and healthy.

The two main attractions of the park was a small, fenced lake on one end of the enclosure with a playground for children on the other. The two locations met up in the middle for a rest stop, which included a public bathroom, water fountains, and a tiny, local concession stand.

Overall, it was a simple but well-kept park that easily brought in people for a place to hang out.

“So, Mila,” Dinah started, “Are we going to your house first or mine?”

The Latina hummed at the question. “As much as I’d love to annoy you with Regina’s help"—Dinah rolled her eyes, taking a curt sip of her drink—"I wanna surprise Sofi since I told her I was coming back next Monday. She won’t see it coming.”

“Aw, your house it is. We should get her something though. Something big and sparkly,” the blonde gestured wildly with her hand, making Camila chuckle at how easy it was to please her little sister.

“Yeah, she’d probably like that. We could go to a pharmacy and get her a stuffed animal or something,” Camila stated with a grin. “She’d love it.”

Dinah beamed at her girlfriend, nodding in agreement. “Let’s go on our way back,” she advised, clinging onto Camila’s hand. “In the meantime, I wanna enjoy this.”

Camila cocked a brow at her words and couldn’t help but smile tenderly. The couple was oblivious to anyone else on the trail. “Aren’t you the romantic?” she teased lightly, finally finishing her beverage. Camila threw both of their empty cups in a trash can along their journey.

“Mila, you really shouldn’t be talking. You’re the most sentimental person I know,” Dinah retorted, quickly adding, “For two years, you literally showered me with love and food without me knowing if it was romantic. At heart, you’re a sap.” She watched her girlfriend’s reaction with great amusement.

Camila’s cheeks colored at the reminder of their past and she ducked her head in embarrassment, stopping right in her tracks, forcing Dinah to do the same. Reliving the junior high was mortifying to say the least.

She remembered that she always shared her lunch with Dinah whenever the girl was still hungry or didn’t get enough to eat. She never shared her food with anyone else. Whenever the annoying kid at her table asked for her chocolate pudding, she easily dismissed him, but with one look from Dinah, Camila instantly gave it to her, not a second thought required.

On Valentine’s Day, Camila was very protective over Dinah, always brushing off any arrogant eighth grade boys hitting on the blonde, and Dinah used to joke that Camila was her true Valentine, and let’s just say that thirteen-year-old Camila nearly passed out from happiness when Dinah kissed her cheek in gratitude.

God, I never had a chance, did I?

The Latina rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “I was in middle school, okay? Everyone made mistakes in seventh grade. And some people can never live it down.” She shuddered just thinking about it.

While Camila was deep in thought, Dinah had stalked closer, her dark eyes fixated on the usually confident brunette. “So, are you implying that you crushing on me was a mistake?” she inquired quietly, her tone devoid from emotion.

Camila snapped her attention to the blonde, her eyes wide in shock. She hadn’t even noticed the close proximity between them. “Of course not! You were the best thing to come out of middle school. Without you, I - I don’t think I would have made it.”

Both girls stiffened, the confession hitting a sore spot.

Around the time where Camila was about to come out to Dinah in seventh grade, she got really depressed, not knowing if she was actually going to go along with her plan or just wuss out like she usually did. The last thing she wanted was for her best friend to reject her. She didn’t think that she’d be able to bare that pain.

For an entire week, Camila closed herself off from Dinah and everyone else, no longer sitting next to her at lunch, refusing to speak to her in class, and not once going over to her house to hang out. The disconnection hurt both of the best friends with Dinah hurting the most because she didn’t know the reason why.

She stayed up late at night, wondering if she did something wrong but came up with nothing. She tried talking to Sinu but the Cuban woman only shook her head at her questions, equally as perplexed with Camila’s behavior as Dinah was.

It drove Dinah out of her mind and on the eighth day, she snuck into Camila’s house and gently demanded an explanation, not wanting to worsen the situation. Dinah even admitted that she couldn’t go one day without thinking about how she might have screwed up and ruined their friendship, tears brimming in her eyes. Camila’s chest ached at the sight, the agonizing pang prompting her to give her best friend a reason for why she was constantly avoiding her.

Camila was ready to reveal her closest secret but her nerves got the better of her. On that eighth day, she came out to Dinah in tears and Dinah warmly accepted her, cradling her in her arms, murmuring “I still love you” into the girl’s hair. Camila slowly began to open herself up again and things returned to their normal pace with a little bit of time.

That was a huge milestone for the girls and it only brought them closer in the end.

Dinah’s gaze softened and she gently cupped Camila’s cheek, wanting her undivided attention. She shut out the rest of the world, only focusing on the Latina. “Walz, don’t say that. You’re a fighter. You would have made it without me. You didn’t need my support to come out.”

Camila’s eyes were on the ground, contemplating her words. “Maybe, maybe not. The only thing that matters now is that I had you by my side during a rough point in my life.” She leaned into the warm touch and tilted her head back to look directly at her girlfriend. She had never wanted to kiss Dinah more than in that instant.

Refraining from her thoughts, Camila’s brows knitted together at the subconscious action, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Wait a minute…”

Ironically, the couple was positioned next to a very low bench, similar to a backless bus bench, and that’s exactly what Camila needed. A tall tree loomed over them, providing them a cool shield from the sun. The scene was perfectly established in Camila’s mind.

Camila jerked away from Dinah’s hold and leaped on top of the smooth, wooden seat, setting her a few inches above Dinah. She grinned brightly at the change. “That’s much better, don'tcha think?”

Dinah only snorted in response, crossing her arms over her chest. “Wow, Mila… You know it’s not my fault you’re short, right?”

“Dinah, please,” Camila stressed, “let me have this one moment.” Her russet eyes were trained on the entertained blonde. “We’ll take it slow.” She pouted like a puppy, somehow managing to look cute and hot at the same time. This ability still boggled Dinah.

The younger girl rolled her eyes and reluctantly accepted their switched positions. She slightly craned her neck upward while Camila leaned down, their lips meeting in the middle. It was a short, sweet kiss that had butterflies fluttering in Camila’s stomach, despite kissing her girlfriend a few times before.

The couple parted and they stared into each other’s eyes, both of their faces flushed. Dinah licked her lips, humming quietly in her throat. “Okay, it wasn’t that bad,” she mumbled, subtly hinting that she kind of liked the swapped arrangement.

Camila pumped her fist in the air with a radiant grin. She started to hop around on the bench in a celebratory dance. “Ha, told you! Change isn’t all that bad, Ch—”

The brunette misstepped on the bench and fell forward into Dinah, knocking her down into the soft grass. A loud “oomf” left the blonde when her back collided with the ground, Camila sprawled on top of her.

“What happened to taking it slow?” Dinah wheezed, her hands resting on Camila’s waist.

Camila groaned at her untimely clumsiness as she propped herself up. With hands on either sides of Dinah’s head and her elevated hips, she tried to calm her racing pulse. Her long waves of dark hair acted as a curtain for the couple undergoing a private moment.

With a sheepish grin, her eyes bore into the blonde’s, silently noting how close they were. She could witness Dinah’s pupils gradually expand firsthand. “I guess I got tired of slow. To be honest, fast is fun.”

Dinah’s eyes lingered on Camila’s lips before swallowing audibly. “Fast can be really fun,” she agreed mindlessly, her chest rising and falling at a faster rate.

Camila bit her lip at the sudden tension and swooped down to kiss her girlfriend, holding back a premature moan in the back of her throat at the crackling passion between them. Dinah’s blunt nails dug into her exposed hips, a groan slipping from Camila’s mouth. The older girl reeled back before they could get carried away, keeping in mind that they were in public.

“You know,” Dinah breathed, attempting to clear her head, “it’s times like these where I’m glad you’re a bumbling klutz.”

Red bloomed across Camila’s cheeks as she rolled off Dinah. “Oh, shut up,” she muttered half-heartedly, pressing her back into the tickling grass. Camila turned on her side so the visor of her backwards snapback didn’t press into the ground, and beckoned Dinah closer.

Her hand instantly weaved itself into the thick, blondeness once the girl was in a good distance. Dinah curled into Camila, her fingers lazily tracing over the brunette’s toned stomach, smiling at how the muscles jumped at her touch.

For the rest of the afternoon, the young couple laid under the tree’s shade in comfortable silence while Camila lovingly stroked Dinah’s hair, the action lulling the girl into a light sleep, her steady breathing music to Camila’s ears.

The large park then became a popular location for future dates.

–––

[WARNING: Caminah Smut.]

Camila’s head spun, and it was all Dinah’s fault.

She didn’t remember how they went from simply cuddling to nearly devouring each other’s faces with their fervent lips and exploring tongues. Her shirt was off and probably laid somewhere on her cluttered bedroom floor. She really needed to clean her room one of these days while they were still on summer break.

Camila’s shorts were unfastened, revealing the black waistband of her underwear. She was laying on her bed, on her side, as one hand gripped the spreadsheets. Her panties were soaking from arousal and it was all thanks to the girl who was currently suckling on her neck, eager to venture into new territory.

A shaky exhale passed Camila’s lips as she felt teeth graze the column of her throat. She shoved a hand into Dinah’s unruly locks, tangling her tan digits in the thick blondness. Camila knew that Dinah was never this dominating while they were making out, and truthfully, the sudden passion took her by surprise—a pleasant surprise, if she was being completely honest. She understood what it meant and what it would hopefully lead to.

“Baby,” Camila mumbled, her blunt nails digging into her girlfriend’s scalp. This elicited a moan from Dinah, causing her to nip the side of the brunette’s neck. Camila swallowed back a groan. “Dinah, stop.”

Dinah froze, her plump lips grazing Camila’s heated skin. She could feel the vein pulsing along the side of Camila’s throat and her mouth went dry. Reluctantly, Dinah lifted her head and was met with the half-lidded eyes and messy hair of her lover. Those smoldering orbs were boring into her, making her center throb.

“Mila, I—”

“Do you want to?” was all Camila husked as she stroked Dinah’s hair absentmindedly, like she had all the time in the world to be with her.

The couple hadn’t had sex yet and Camila patiently waited, not wanting to rush into anything. In fact, Camila felt pressured to make their first time incredible as all she usually did was hit it and quit it with a few other girls. Dinah was too special for just a simple fuck.

No, Camila was going to make love to her and treat her like the queen she was. It’s what Dinah deserved. She was Camila’s first love after all.

Dinah drew her lower lip in between her teeth and leaned her forehead against Camila’s. Her heart hammered in her chest. “I really want to, Mila. I’m ready.”

A soft smile dawned on Camila’s face and she soon placed herself between the other girl’s legs. She quickly thanked all the deities out there that her parents decided to take her little sister out shopping and proceeded. The hand tangled in Dinah’s hair slowly trailed down to cup her face, her thumb lazily stroking Dinah’s cheek. Camila pressed their lips together in a loving kiss, reaffirming her strong feelings for the Polynesian.

The kiss was slow and sweet, which frustrated Dinah to no end as she had to endure Camila’s soft lips on her own instead feeling them on her flushed skin, relieving the ache in her core. Camila smirked at Dinah’s obvious impatience, shown through the hot tongue swiping at her bottom lip and the heavy breathing the other girl gradually adopted.

“Slow down, baby,” Camila murmured, finally accepting Dinah’s eager tongue with her own skilled one. The blonde sighed in relief and melted into the passionate kiss, letting the brunette please her.

Camila’s lips soon traveled down to Dinah’s neck, nipping the soft skin right under her jaw. Both of her hands dropped to Dinah’s hips, her hands gliding under the blonde’s white blouse, languidly caressing the warm skin.

With a small smirk, Camila marked Dinah with her teeth, the area blushing red. A small groan passed through Dinah at the twinge, but it was soon replaced by a breathy moan when Camila relieved one of her bites with the plane of her hot tongue. Camila soothed the bruise tenderly, grinning against Dinah’s throat. She traced her tongue along the throbbing vein in the column of Dinah’s neck, making the blonde shiver.

“I’ll make you feel really good,” Camila husked in Dinah’s ear, taking her earlobe between her teeth. She nibbled lightly, making Dinah squirm with arousal, before releasing. Camila’s hands wandered up her sides, teasing the undersides of Dinah’s covered breasts. Her exploring fingers fueled the fire in Dinah’s belly.

The brunette leaned back, enthralled by the sight of Dinah’s blown pupils, tousled hair, and heaving chest. Camila managed to do that, and she wanted—no, needed more.

Camila swallowed hard when Dinah’s eyes trailed from her black sports bra to her exposed midriff, taking in her fluttering abdominal muscles. Dinah always knew she had a thing for a toned stomach.

The Latina was pleasantly surprised when Dinah reached behind the back of her neck and urged her back down, fusing their lips together. Their mouths glided with heated fervor, neither girl getting enough of the other.

Camila’s heart raced in her chest at the thought of being intimate with the love of her life. All those years of pining had finally paid off.

Dinah pushed Camila off for a second, her breathing labored. Her center ached for attention and the layers of clothes between her and Camila was becoming bothersome. She offered a shy grin before she yanked off her shirt and dropped it on the floor, leaving Dinah in her red bra, her hair sprawled on the pillow.

Camila’s mouth ran dry at the sight. She had seen her girlfriend in a bikini before but that was under very different circumstances. Camila couldn’t help but love Dinah in red. The vibrant color complimented her skin tone and messy blonde hair perfectly.

The older girl licked her lips subconsciously before she leaned in to kiss Dinah’s slender neck. Camila sucked at a spot above the juncture of her shoulder, nipping it with her teeth, which prompted a moan from the blonde. “I’m gonna worship you,” Camila whispered, her voice thick with desire.

Dinah tilted her head back on the pillow as Camila’s kisses trailed down to her chest. Her breathing grew heavier as Camila’s lips continued to her covered breasts. “Mila, please,” she whined, the fire now blazing in her core. The older girl’s words made her thighs clench with need.

Camila grinned at her girlfriend’s impatience before she easily unhooked Dinah’s bra, revealing the girl’s full breasts. Her jaw went slack as she gawked at the blonde’s strong, bare upper body. Her dark eyes burned with lust.

Dinah was the most beautiful thing Camila had ever laid eyes on in that moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” Camila murmured, continuing to kiss along her chest, heading lower. Dinah’s eyes fluttered shut as Camila began to slowly pepper kisses all over Dinah’s bare body, determined to worship every inch of skin given to her. Camila could feel how the blonde’s chest rose and fell with every nip and lick, how she drove Dinah mad with desire.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” she mumbled as her lips glided over Dinah’s soft, tone stomach, her hands gripping her curvy figure. Camila grinned mischievously when Dinah jolted at the sensation of her plump lips nearing the waistline of her shorts.

“You’re such a tease,” Dinah managed to voice before a sharp nip at her side silenced her. She then settled for enjoying her girlfriend’s lips on her body.

Camila swallowed hard as she eyed the underside of Dinah’s breasts with interest, tempted by the nipples taut with arousal. She slowly advanced the unsuspecting girl’s chest, a simple goal on her mind. With no hesitation, Camila eagerly took one of Dinah’s breasts in her mouth, gently palming its twin.

The reaction was instantaneous as Dinah’s back arched off the bed, a groan lodging in the back of her throat. Her hand weaved into Camila’s hair, her long digits tangling in the dark tresses. An exhaled moan spilled out of Dinah at the hot mouth encasing her breast. Her eyes screwed shut when Camila’s free hand rolled her other stiff nipple between her index and middle finger.

“Mila, more,” Dinah breathed when she felt teeth graze her nipple. Camila continued to suckle her breast, each lick and nip making the hot coiling in Dinah’s lower belly almost unbearable. “Oh, god.”

The younger girl began to tug at Camila’s sports bra, tired of all these layers separating them, and Camila appeared to get the hint. Leaving Dinah’s nipple with a pop, Camila quickly pushed her bra up over her chest and she threw it to the floor.

Right as Dinah was about to palm Camila’s breasts, Camila caught her wrists and shook her head. “Not right now. This about me making you feel good. Let me do everything.”

Her voice was steady and assuring as she stared deeply into Dinah’s eyes. All Dinah saw was unconditional love and longing in those dark orbs, and any forming protests dissipated.

Dinah quickly relented and Camila smiled fondly, kissing the girl’s knuckles before swooping down for another heated kiss. Their tongues immediately explored each other’s mouths and their chests pressed together, causing Dinah’s underwear to dampen with more wetness. She was worried that she’d never be able to wear the pair ever again.

The taller girl reached for Camila’s unbuttoned shorts and attempted to pull them down, though unsuccessful. “Off,” Dinah muttered against Camila’s swollen lips.

A chuckle slipped out of Camila and she had to fight back the urge to suck her teeth at her and tease her horribly aroused girlfriend. Instead, she hurriedly obeyed her lover by sliding off her shorts, the item of clothes falling to the ground. As Camila retained her original position over Dinah, her knee brushed against Dinah’s soaking center.

The two girls inhaled sharply, a low, pitiful moan leaving Dinah. Camila watched in awe as the blonde’s throat strained with the sudden pleasure flooding her senses. Experimentally, Camila added more pressure to her center, eliciting labored breaths from her girlfriend. Camila closed her eyes tight, holding back a deep groan. “God, Dinah, you’re so wet.”

Dinah’s dark eyes met her own and Camila soon found Dinah’s arms wrapped loosely around her neck, holding her in place. They shared a deep kiss, Dinah nimbly taking Camila’s lower lip between her teeth. She tugged on Camila’s lip, proud of the low groan that she drew from the Latina.

“Mila, baby, I need you,” Dinah gasped when Camila shifted, her knee pressing harder into her aching center. She bucked her hips, desperate for more sweet friction. “Fuck me.”

Camila broke the kiss, breathing hard. Her hooded eyes gazed into her girlfriend’s and she grinned at her reluctance to wait. “Patience, baby.”

She hastily pulled Dinah’s shorts down her legs, throwing it across her room, and settled between them again. Camila gripped Dinah’s thick thighs as she littered kisses all over them, making Dinah tremble as she got closer to her aching center. The blonde’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she awaited for the inevitable.

Dinah inhaled sharply, her hands gripping the bed sheets when Camila’s skillful mouth sucked on the skin of her inner thigh. A throaty moan passed her lips when Camila bit down, sure to leave a mark. “Camila, please,” Dinah whined wantonly.

Her eyes raked down her own body to witness Camila’s dark eyes fixated on her. Dinah gulped at the fire that seemed to blaze behind those smoldering russet orbs. She shivered at how erotic the entire sight was, with Camila’s hair disheveled, a sexy smirk etched on her face, mischief glowing in her eyes as she held her thighs in place.

Being with Camila lit her insides on fire and Dinah craved the provided warmth.

“What do you want?” Camila husked, lifting her face from between the girl’s thighs. She rose a brow questioningly, loving to tease Dinah further. Camila knew exactly how to push the blonde’s buttons to her favor.

Dinah’s jaw clenched in frustration, her core pulsing for relief. “Camila…” She breathed in slowly, forcing her mind to form a coherent sentence. “Please, I need you in me. God, I want you so bad.”

A comforting warmness spread across Camila’s chest, filling her to the brim. Her playful behavior morphed into a determined and loving one as she was ready to accomplish her objective of pleasing her girlfriend in the most intimate way.

With a hard swallow, Camila proceeded to peel Dinah’s ruined panties off at a slow pace, savoring the moment. Once Dinah was completely bare, Camila could only bask in the girl’s naked form. She marveled at every smooth slope, each curve and juncture of her body. Her soft, tan skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, her eyes nearly black with lust. Dinah’s blonde hair was similar to a lion’s mane, wild and untamed.

The Polynesian was so colorful and alive compared to the white bed sheets.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Camila voiced quietly, burning the sight to memory.

Camila had to bite back a moan when Dinah took her own plump lip between her teeth, looking up at her through her half-lidded eyes if she was the only person in the world. Camila was rendered speechless at the intense gaze.

Dinah had never felt so powerful than in that instant. Her heart pounded proudly at the pure, unadulterated adoration etched on the girl’s face. “Camila, I need you to love me,” she murmured, knowing that was all the instructions Camila needed.

The Latina barely nodded before she continued where she left off—right in between Dinah’s legs. She almost groaned at the view of Dinah’s dripping center, the folds glistening with arousal. Her hands curled underneath the girl’s thighs, keeping her steady. The scent of her arousal sparked something within in her, her gut tightening.

Dinah could feel Camila’s warm breath against her core and her body quivered with anticipation, her throat bobbing. “Touch me.”

At that terse order, Camila flattened her tongue against Dinah’s clit and slowly brought it upwards, truly tasting her. A shudder ran down the blonde’s spin, her mouth flying open with a silent scream. Her hands immediately buried themselves in Camila’s long hair, unknowingly pulling her closer. “Oh my god,” Dinah moaned out helplessly, pressing her head back into the pillow.

Fighting back a cocky grin, Camila flicked her tongue, running the muscle along Dinah’s soaking folds. She traced the slit with her hot tongue, loving how her girlfriend held her in place by handfuls of her hair. Camila wanted the girl to react, to tell her what made her feel good, as a lead toward Dinah’s undoing.

Camila eagerly obliged by lapping at the wetness that flowed into her mouth, keeping Dinah’s quivering thighs apart. Her nose lightly grazed Dinah’s clit when she pushed deeper, prompting a long whine from the girl.

“Fuck me,” the blonde croaked mindlessly, her chest heaving as she attempted to process the immense pleasure running through her veins.

“Your wish is my command,” Camila purred, allowing her tongue to delve into Dinah’s aching center. Dinah’s body jolted and she tugged on Camila’s hair, earning a throaty groan from the brunette, the vibration causing Dinah’s breath to hitch. That feeling only added to the tight coiling in Dinah’s lower stomach.

An endless string of moans slipped out of the younger girl once Camila spread her lower lips, fucking her with her skilled tongue. Dinah’s hips rocked into Camila’s face with a will of their own, wanting her tongue to go deeper into her engulfing heat. Camila teased her clit with a gentle nip and suck, a low mewl passing through the blonde.

“F - fuck, Camila…” the blonde whined pitifully.

Sensing Dinah’s impending climax, Camila decided to include her right hand, her thumb finding Dinah’s clit. A gasp escaped Dinah at the sudden pressure on her swollen bundle of nerves. Her hold on Camila’s hair loosened dramatically. “Mila, I’m gonna—”

Camila abruptly lifted her face from Dinah’s center and shot up her warm, sweaty front, silencing her with a passionate kiss. Their chests pressed together, the soft ridges of Camila’s abs rubbing against Dinah’s stomach. The blonde’s head spun at the unexpected halt, her body drowning in incredible heat and unbearable frustration. Camila’s hot mouth trailed down, ravishing Dinah’s neck with her teeth as she easily slipped two fingers inside of her, her thumb never leaving her clit.

The younger girl threw her head back at the stretch, her blunt nails digging into the small of Camila’s muscular back. Camila groaned at the dull pain, nipping the side of Dinah’s throat. “Don’t worry, I got you,” she murmured. Camila began to move her fingers at a steady pace, gaining the response of Dinah’s brows furrowing. “Relax.”

Though her movements were slow, Dinah moaned at the pleasure gradually building up in her belly. Her eyes fluttered open, witnessing Camila’s dark orbs full of love and compassion. Camila smiled tenderly, curling her fingers inside Dinah.

A loud moan escaped her open mouth, her neck straining at the overwhelming pleasure invading her senses. Dinah’s hands fisted the bed sheets in sake of not running her fingertips down Camila’s back. Dinah could feel everything; the nimble fingers inside of her, Camila’s overly warm body on top of hers, the teeth skimming the sweaty skin of her neck.

“That’s it. I got you, baby,” Camila coaxed softly, her hot breath washing over Dinah’s shoulder. She raised her head, her eyes boring into a similarly dark pair. Her hand maintained a moderate rhythm and she grinned at the quick rise and fall of Dinah’s chest. “Tell me what you want.”

A noncoherent series of moans left the younger girl, her favorite words to utter being “fuck” and her lover’s name. Grinding her hips into Camila’s hand, Dinah gasped out, “God, faster, Mila. Please.”

A lump formed in Camila’s throat at the desperate words, her own center throbbing, a steady fire blazing in her gut. She instantly complied, her fingers pumping rapidly inside of her girlfriend. Her thumb set to work on her clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. Camila’s face was contorted in concentration, determined to pleasure Dinah as much as she could.

The hot coiling in the pit of Dinah’s stomach wound tighter and tighter with every thrust of Camila’s fingers. Her hands were no longer grasping the bed sheets as they were now clutching onto Camila’s muscular back. The dull pain only quickened Camila’s pace. Sweat beaded on the blonde’s forehead, hot, breathy moans passing through her parted lips.

“Dinah, look at me,” Camila ordered, her exhales becoming heavier.

The girl’s eyes darted to Camila’s and a strangled moan caught in the back of her throat at how much effort Camila was putting into pleasuring her. Her brows were furrowed, the muscles in her arm flexing. Camila’s pupils were blown wide as she stared deeply into her eyes. There were no words to describe the unadulterated passion that lay beneath those orbs.

Camila ducked her head into the crook of Dinah’s neck, nipping at the damp skin there. The ends of her hair tickled Dinah’s chest. The Latina could feel how fast the girl’s pulse was racing in the prodding vein under her tongue. “Come for me,” Camila rasped hotly, her mouth latching onto the side of her slender throat.

Dinah’s orgasm ripped through her at the final curling of Camila’s fingers. Her back snapped off the bed as her head pressed into the pillow, her throat constricting. Fire coursed through her veins, flooding her body with heat. Camila hissed lowly at how forcefully Dinah raked her nails down her back.

The brunette circled her clit lazily, helping her ride out her orgasm. All of the energy drained out of Dinah, leaving her body limp and out of breath. Her chest heaved as she attempted to slow down her rapid heart rate. Her head spun at the mind-blowing orgasm she underwent.

“Oh wow,” Dinah managed to breathe as Camila repositioned herself at the blonde’s side rather than on top of her. Dinah immediately missed her warm shield. A blissful expression spread over her face as she turned to face an awestruck Camila. Her heart fluttered at the dark orbs shimmering with affection.

A small grin curled Camila’s lips as she gazed into Dinah’s eyes. “God, you’re so beautiful,” she murmured, gently cupping the girl’s cheek. Camila’s chest was tight at Dinah’s flushed cheeks, her brilliant eyes and mussed hair, and the bruising lovebites littering her smooth, golden skin. She leaned in and captured Dinah’s lips in a curt kiss. “I love you.”

The ends of Dinah’s eyes crinkled as she smiled brightly. “I love you too.”

Grinning crookedly, Camila moved in to swing her arm over Dinah’s midsection to cuddle when the blonde licked her lips, a sudden twinkle of mischief gleaming in her eye, as she hastily straddled the dazed Latina.

“Dinah?” Camila questioned, her eyes trying to meet her girlfriend’s. Her back stung a little from Dinah’s nails but repressed the slight discomfort. Camila surely didn’t mind the view though. Her hands rested on the girl’s hips, squeezing gently to prompt a response from the blonde.

Dinah chewed on her lower lip as she looked down at Camila, her line of vision lowering from Camila’s wild, dark hair to her plump lips and defined jawline to her lean, toned body. She couldn’t fathom how the girl dared to call her beautiful when Camila herself was a work of art.

Swooping down, Dinah peppered kisses all over Camila’s neck, nipping under her jaw. The brunette sighed contently, her eyes drooping halfway in bliss. With a small smirk, she noticed how Dinah knew that neck kisses were a sure way to get her fired up. Her hands began to creep up Dinah’s sides when her girlfriend’s next words stopped her.

“It’s your turn now,” Dinah mumbled against Camila’s throat, shifting in between the girl’s legs.

Swallowing hard, Camila’s brows knitted together as she held onto Dinah’s shoulders, rejecting her advances. She shook her head, not wanting to pressure her girlfriend into reciprocating if she wasn’t ready, as she was Dinah’s first intimate encounter with another female.

Camila would gladly remain hot and bothered if it meant Dinah was comfortable with no burden weighing her down. “No, babe, it’s okay. This was about you, not m—”

Dinah kissed her, interrupting her protest. She pulled back and stared into her eyes pleadingly. “But I wanna make you feel good too. Please, Walz?” She jutted her lower lip in a pout, her big brown eyes making Camila’s stomach flop.

Inhaling deeply, one of Camila’s hands slid down Dinah’s sides to grip her hip, the other hand keeping the girl at bay. No matter how hard she wanted to, she couldn’t say no to Dinah.

A sudden jitteriness washed over her at the thought of Dinah returning the favor. Her fingers twitched on the girl’s waist, her fingertips pressing into her skin. Camila’s hold on Dinah’s shoulder loosened and her hand advanced to her neck, her thumb brushing up along the smooth front of her neck.

Their eyes were locked in an intense exchange, and Camila struggled to breathe correctly. Camila’s center ached when Dinah leaned forward slightly, her throat bobbing with a hard swallow under Camila’s thumb. A shiver racked down Camila’s spine at their sensual position. Dinah had never looked more sexy to her than in that instant. Her gut tightened gradually, heat expelling from her body. Her mouth went dry at Dinah’s trusting and expectant face.

“Okay,” Camila quietly relented. Her eyes never left the blonde’s as she pulled her in for a passionate kiss by the nape of her neck. Dinah smiled fondly into the kiss, her eager hands wandering to Camila’s torso, her blunt nails running down the toned abs. A groan slipped out of Camila at the burning sensation, her core throbbing with desire.

A sly smile curved Dinah’s lips as she began to kiss down Camila’s naked body. She fought back a grin at her girlfriend’s quickened breath, her hands palming Camila’s breasts. She gently kneaded the mounds, her hot tongue curling around a piqued nipple, teasing it with her teeth.

A moan escaped Camila, the sound vibrating deep in her throat, as her hand tangled in Dinah’s thick hair. Her eyes were squeezed shut, letting the pleasure control her. “God, Dinah,” she exhaled as the blonde dropped lower. Her hand was still buried in the long, golden locks.

Plump lips ghosted over Camila’s quivering abdominal muscles, her hot breath fanning over the burning, tan skin. Her lower lip grazed each soft ridge, Dinah’s tongue peeking out to circle her belly button. Dinah smirked at the low whimper caught in Camila’s throat when she planted an open-mouthed kiss below her navel.

Teeth nipped at Camila’s sides, breathy moans leaving the brunette. To add to the sharp feeling, Dinah ran her rounded fingernails along the toned abs, eliciting a guttural groan from the Latina. Her head was tilted back into the pillow, the muscles of her neck straining.

“Fuck,” Camila breathed as Dinah continued her assault on the girl’s fit midriff. Camila never realized how much she enjoyed the sensation of a girl running their nails down her abs until then, and she couldn’t get enough.

Grinning smugly at the power she possessed over the brunette, Dinah’s mouth headed lower, her hands holding Camila’s hips in place. Her lips explored every inch of tanned skin presented before her, loving the small gasps that slipped out of Camila whenever her teeth sank into her body. The blonde made sure to leave her mark on the Latina’s thighs, just like how Camila did with her.

“Oh God, fuck…” Camila moaned out as her girlfriend suckled at the skin on her inner thigh. At that point, a thin sheet of sweat covered her body, both due to her own body temperature and Dinah’s actions.

As Dinah traveled downward, she shifted between the girl’s legs, settling in front of her soaking center. Her wide eyes absorbed the unfamiliar sight with great interest, subconsciously dragging her tongue over upper lip. Dinah inhaled slowly, arousal flourishing in her own core at how wet Camila was, promptly wondering if she was that wet as well.

Camila trembled at the close proximity, her fingertips pressing into Dinah’s scalp as she adjusted her hold on the blonde tresses. Her jaw was clenched in anticipation, her throat bobbing with a thick swallow. Her mind raced, heat pooling between her legs, and she couldn’t stop herself from uttering, “Dinah, please.”

A hot tongue flattened against her slit and Camila inhaled sharply, her hips rising with a mind of their own. Her grip on the blonde’s hair tightened, her arm shaking with restraint. Dinah smirked and ran her tongue along Camila’s dripping folds.

“God, fuck,” the brunette groaned, her eyes screwing shut. Though inexperienced, Dinah’s tongue was the relief Camila craved.

Dinah traced the slit with her tongue, circling Camila’s entrance teasingly. She welcomed the wetness that seeped into her mouth with no protest. Her tongue explored the brunette’s aching center, grinning at how Camila firmly held her in place by her hair. The action caused Dinah’s nose to bump into Camila’s clit.

The brunette’s jaw slackened as a heavy exhale passed through her. She swallowed hard at the electricity that struck her at the single brush of her clit. “Do that again,” she managed to vocalize, her free hand grasping the bed sheets.

Deliberately slow, Dinah gently flicked her tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves, curling her mouth around it. A high whimper slipped out of Camila at the spike of pleasure that shot up her body when Dinah suckled the nub. Her back gradually arched off the bed. “Oh, fuck.”

Before her addled mind could process the warm, attentive mouth around her clit, Dinah suddenly pushed two long fingers into her, causing the tendons in Camila’s neck to tense at the ecstasy engulfing her. A sharp whine flew from Camila’s mouth at how deep the blonde’s digits reached inside her.

Both of the Latina’s hands clutched onto the bed sheets, afraid to yank on Dinah’s tousled hair. She didn’t know if she could control herself while drowning in a sea of pleasure. The coiling in her lower stomach wound so tightly to the point of snapping with a powerful release. Her body radiated heat that attracted the blonde, urging her to proceed.

At the sensation of Dinah nipping her clit and the curling of her nimble fingers inside her, a low cry of “Dinah!” escaped Camila, followed by a series of fading moans, her vision dimming with a familiar darkness.

[End of WARNING: Caminah Smut.]

–––

“Dinah…”

Russet eyes snapped open and Camila bolted upright, struggling to catch her breath. She awoke in a cold sweat, her various dreams leaving her confused and disoriented. Still groggy from sleep, she attempted to make sense of her dreams but to no avail.

If only I left my heart out of this, she thought bitterly. The dreams were real, but only in the past.

Camila ran a hand through her wild hair in frustration, the familiar sensation causing a shiver to shoot down her spine. Her heart beat rapidly in her ribcage and she was torn between feeling elated and somber.

She checked her wristwatch in hopes to anchor herself to reality and to regain her bearings. It was roughly 2 PM, meaning that she slept for little over an hour and a half, even though in her subconscious, it felt like years.

Her line of vision flitted to Dinah’s sleeping form on the other side of the van, directly across from her as she was in the middle. Camila’s chest contracted at the sea of emotions suddenly washing over her, currently drowning in them. Her eyes softened at the well-known sight, a wistful look momentarily flashing in them. She balled her twitching fingers into loose fists, forcing herself to turn away.

“Camz?” a quiet voice spoke out, causing the Latina to flinch, the hairs on her nape rising.

Camila’s mouth went dry at the thought of getting caught by the one person who complicated the entire situation between her and her former girlfriend. Uncertain of how to continue, the brunette remained frozen in place, her blood running cold. She knew she was seen red-handed.

“Camila…could you look at me please?” Lauren requested softly, her green eyes trained on the fire-wielder who was still looking at Dinah. It didn’t take an idiot to put two and two together by that point, especially with her recently acquired knowledge. “I just want to talk.”

Wetting her lips, Camila obliged and slowly turned around to face the expectant daughter of Poseidon. Those green orbs seemed to shimmer when they peered into her soul, successfully making her stomach flop. The brunette managed a weak smile as Lauren leisurely scooted closer, not wanting to scare her off. “Hey.”

Lauren quirked a brow at the curt greeting. “Hey yourself. You feeling better?” she motioned to her wrapped abdomen.

A tan hand dropped to Camila’s midriff, feeling the medical wrappings under her clothes, causing her to frown. She could barely recall the incident, resorting to blame the adrenaline coursing through her veins at the time. “Yeah, I’m alright. Nothing a little bit of sleep can’t help.”

The older girl bit her lip at the looming subject, knowing that she had to bring it up somehow if she wanted closure on the matter. “Oh, I’m aware. You were in pretty deep, and uh, before you woke up, you were kinda mumbling someone’s name. Do you remember any of that?”

Camila remained silent, assuming that she was saying Dinah’s name because of her final erotic dream. She didn’t know if she should lie or come clean with the truth. The other girls were bound to find out sooner or later, and she was tired of keeping it in and letting it mess with her heart.

A heavy sigh passed through Lauren and she shifted closer to the brunette after receiving no reply. “Camila, I know about you and Dinah"—Camila’s heart wrenched at the words and at their meaning—"How you used to date,” Lauren clarified, her voice staying level.

“Let me guess, Dinah told you?” Camila inquired nonchalantly, not affected by the reveal. Her lowered gaze met Lauren’s and the daughter of Poseidon swallowed thickly at the repressed pain swirling in those dark orbs. “I mean, who else would have told you? We were the only ones to know, seeing that it was our relationship.”

Lauren attempted to backtrack, raising a defensive hand. “Don’t be mad at her. It slipped out and I’m the one who pried for more.”

The van went silent, leaving Camila to stare blankly at the floor, the blazing fire in her soul quavering. After the emotional rollercoaster of her dreams, Camila was sick of her chest aching. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She inhaled deeply, racking up her jumbled-up thoughts.

Where do I even start? Dinah probably told her everything anyway.

Camila worried over Lauren’s lack of speech, acknowledging that she hadn’t gained a reaction from her. “You’re not like…disgusted, are you?” She genuinely hoped that the daughter of Poseidon wasn’t homophobic because that would alter a lot of things in their budding relationship.

The green-eyed girl nearly chuckled at the implication of the question and simply shook her head. “How could I be disgusted when I just go with the flow? That’d be a bit hypocritical of me, don’t you think?” Lauren smiled when the realization dawned on Camila’s face, her eyes growing wide.

Wait a minute… Is she…

“You're—”

“Bi?” Lauren nodded curtly, picking at her shirt. “Yeah, most people are surprised too.”

“No,” Camila denied quickly. “It’s not that. I just didn’t want to assume someone’s sexuality. Kinda beats the purpose of coming out,” she jokes, smiling cheekily. She didn’t know why but her heart soared at the admittance, making her hands radiate a steady, welcoming warmth. “The LGBTQ+ community is really lucky to have you.”

Hope sparked in Camila’s chest once more, but this time, she was determined to keep it flickering. Her heart was telling her that this—Lauren—was worth burning for.

A soft smile pulled on Lauren’s lips as she studied Camila’s livelier figure. “And let me guess, you and Dinah are…?” She lifted her hands up in interest, not wanting to guess.

The brunette snorted at having her own joke used against her and turned her body so she could fully face Lauren. “Well, I’m gay but Dinah’s polysexual.”

Surprise showed on Lauren’s face as she took a second to glance over at the sleeping daughter of Ares. She never would have expected that the warrior was attracted to girls, boys, and non-binaries. “The Polynesian is poly?” she whispered in an urgent tone, drawing a hearty laugh from Camila.

“Actually, that was the first thing I said to her when she told me back in May. She gaped at me, claiming I had 'the nerve’ before smacking me,” Camila stated with a fond smile, her brown eyes shining. “I even made her a custom t-shirt that says, 'THIS POLY IS POLY.’ She won’t admit it now but she totally loved it.”

The pyrokinetic tapped her chin, delving into deep thought with a serious expression. “You know, now that I think back on it, it’s no wonder Dinah was better at Geometry class than me. She loves polygons.”

The cheesy pun prompted a giggle from Lauren, her eyes crinkling from laughter. The joyous laugh was music to Camila’s ears. A proud grin was plastered on Camila’s face as she began to lose herself in those animated green orbs.

“Well, she loved you too,” Lauren informed softly, carefully watching the brunette. She chose her following words wisely. “She told me that she didn’t love you as much as you loved her… Do you still love her?”

Camila sighed eavily, already sensing the million-dollar question from a mile away. She ran a hand through her hair to calm herself. “I - I still love her,” she confessed lowly, “just not romantically. Not like before.” A large weight toppled off her chest, allowing her to breathe freely. The lingering feelings were finally dissolving and for a moment, her heart didn’t ache.

The Cuban shrugged indifferently, her shoulders slumping. “I would say that I love her like a sister but I’m not sure if that would count as incest or not"—her brows scrunched up—"and I don’t even want to mess with that can of worms.”

Lauren chuckled at her conflicted expression, keeping her eyes trained on Camila, not wanting to miss a single word. She placed a hand on Camila’s knee as support and the girl offered her a small smile in gratitude. “Do you regret any of it?” she inquired.

Camila paused, her eyes gaining a dazed look. Snapping out of her thoughts, she pursed her lips in a wistful manner. “No, I don’t regret it, not one bit. Some people are meant to fall in love with each other but not meant to be with each other,” she admitted boldly, straightening her posture. “It took me a while to learn that but I can definitely accept that. I just want both of us to be happy. To see her smile is enough for me.”

The daughter of Poseidon blinked twice in surprise, astounded by Camila’s level of maturity when it came to handling her past romantic relationship. “Wow, well said.”

Camila smiled wryly and set her hand atop of Lauren’s, sharing her warmth. “I do try.”

One end of Lauren’s mouth twitched into a half smile as she bowed her head forward. She could feel the heat radiating off the brunette and it easily lured her in, positioning her right next to Camila. Her hand had left the girl’s knee during the shift, now resting on the carpet floor between them with Camila’s hand still on top.

A comfortable silence loomed over them as they both tried to grasp the previous conversation, neither girl removing their hand. Lauren leaned toward Camila, content with the steady supply of warmth.

The topic of their sexualities had piqued Lauren’s interest since Camila was so blunt about her orientation and wasn’t fazed by her own bisexuality. She had easily welcomed Lauren with open arms, unlike some of her former friends at school who demanded she chose a side.

With Camila, Lauren knew she could be herself and she could trust Camila to answer truthfully to any of her impending questions.

A sudden thought sprang in Lauren’s head and bit her lip at the memory. She was dying for a straight answer ever since it happened. “Camila?” she started, wincing at how she broke the peaceful silence.

The girl hummed in response, lazily tracing shapes into the back of her hand with her index finger. Her actions were sluggish as if she was at ease, and Lauren hated that she would put an end to it.

“What did Artemis mean when she couldn’t recruit you due to your past?”

Camila froze, her fingers stilling on Lauren’s pale skin. The question completely caught her off guard, seeing that the incident occurred hours ago. She turned her head to face the daughter of Poseidon, those innocent eyes deriving an answer from her. “I’m not a virgin.”

Lauren knew that much but she was curious if Dinah was her first intimate partner. “Was Dinah your first?”

The question reminded Camila of her final dream and she quickly repressed it by clearing her throat. She supposed that talking openly about her past relationship would help her finally get over it. “Er, no. I was the first person she ever slept with but she wasn’t my first.

"I was at a party during the end of my first semester of sophomore year when I drunkenly hooked up with this junior girl. No strings attached, just plain sex. And yes, it was consensual. I could barely remember it so I didn’t do it again.” Camila coughed, her eyes falling to her lap. “What about you?”

Lauren’s cheeks colored at the question being thrown back at her. “Uh, no, I’m not a virgin either. I lost my virginity to my ex-boyfriend Luis.” With her free hand, she covered her face in embarrassment when remembering the details. “We did it during the winter break of my junior year. Gods, I was so impulsive.”

Wait a minute.

Camila’s eyes widened at the information, her hand clutching the girl’s pale one. “We both lost our virginities around the same time.”

“Oh my gods,” the older girl exclaimed. “That is one of the most coincidental things I’ve ever heard.”

“Talk about gettin’ a little extra under the mistletoe,” Camila joked, causing both girls to crack up at the irony. Camila was relieved at the fluffy feeling in her chest, meaning that her heart was finally catching up with her mind. And she had Lauren to thank for the transition.

“Hey, what happened to Luis?” Camila asked, wanting to hear the end of the story.

Lauren’s green eyes hardened at the mention of her ex’s name, her jaw clenching. “When I came out to him, after our first time of course, he kept insisting to have threesomes and got angry when I looked at a pretty girl. He yelled at me to 'pick a side’ and I just broke up with him on the spot. Last I heard of him was that some guys jumped him after he fucked one of their girlfriends. Serves him right.”

Camila’s eyebrows nearly shot up to her hairline in shock. She immediately took Lauren’s hand in her own as a supportive friend. “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry, Lo. I really hope those guys beat the disgusting biphobia out of that sleazy jackass. I’ll burn him myself if he goes anywhere near you.”

The daughter of Poseidon gripped the tan hand, her eyes darting to Camila’s caring brown ones staring right back. Her heart beat faster in her chest. “Thank you, and I doubt he learned his lesson. Luis thinks more with his dick than his brain.”

A short chuckle left Camila as she agreed wholeheartedly. She hated people who discriminated minorities when they were already suffering enough. As a gay woman of color, she could totally understand Lauren’s troubles. That’s why Camila liked the goddess Artemis so much since she stood for independent women and their freedom from the oppression of men.

Abruptly, the immortal’s last words to them rang in her ears and Camila recalled Lauren’s unusual reaction. Her brows furrowed at how the sea spawn clutched her necklace, her eyes wide with fear. Something must have clicked for her, and it was anything but good.

“Lauren,” Camila began tentatively, squeezing the girl’s hand in her warm one, “do you know why Artemis reminded us of women lost in and build from fire?”

Similar to the last time, Lauren’s entire body tensed, her face going pale at the quote. She tore her hand away from Camila’s, clutching it to her chest. Her quivering fingers grasped the bronze trident charm on her necklace. Her green eyes were bright with paranoia, the pupils expanding. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing coherent came out.

“Lauren, what’s wr—”

Camila was silenced when Lauren instantly rejected any physical contact from Camila, shown through her failed attempts of reaching out to the girl. Lauren shuffled backwards in response, distancing herself and the pyrokinetic. Her breathing had quickened and she screwed her eyes shut in concentration as if reliving a painful memory.

The brunette’s stomach dropped as she observed Lauren worriedly, gnawing on her lower lip while she conjured up a plan. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of being the cause of Lauren’s sudden agitation. She honestly hadn’t expected a reaction where the girl completely withdrew herself.

Gods, I always screw up.

“Lauren… Lo, please talk to me. We can sort, whatever this is, out.” After gaining nothing but a fear-contorted face, Camila swallowed hard. “I - Is it my fault? I’m sorry I brought it up—”

“It’s not your fault,” Lauren managed to argue, her eyes flashing open. A powerful storm brewed behind those anxious, dark orbs. Her knuckles were white from clenching her fist so tight. “I… I just heard those words before,” she tried explaining. “The fireman who saved my life told me that after he returned me to my parents.”

The daughter of Poseidon shakily recalled how her house had set on fire due to an electrical appliance with a faulty wire. Her mother and stepfather had been able to secure her little brother and sister but a wall of fire separated them from seven-year-old Lauren. The girl was paralyzed with fear as she was stuck in her bedroom on the second story of her house with no means of escape

Lauren tersely described how hot her room was, how she sweated profusely while she waited for someone to save her. The crackling of the fire only grew louder and louder as it consumed the Jauregui household. She didn’t know it then but her father’s oceanic nature aided her in staying conscious long enough while the emergency workers did everything they could to reach her.

At one point, Lauren had crawled over to her window and pressed herself onto the floor, wheezing due to the lack of pure oxygen. Her lungs burned and she tried screaming for help but she just couldn’t. Instead, tears started to stream down her face as she waited for the inevitable. She could literally feel the smoke filtering through her lungs, gradually weakening her.

The suffocating atmosphere nearly caused her black out until a lone fireman burst into her room, leaping through the wall of fire before scooping her up into his strong arms.

“You’re okay, kiddo. Everything’s going to be alright,” he assured her through his protective face mask. “I got you.” His deep voice strangely eased Lauren as she buried her face into his warm chest.

Without wasting a single moment, the heroic man smashed her bedroom window open and quickly scaled down the already propped ladder. He rushed over to the paramedics with his heavy gear and Lauren in tow and gently set her down on one of the standing gurneys.

A female nurse hastily attached an emergency oxygen mask to Lauren’s face, the fresh air filling up the girl’s lungs. Lauren’s chest heaved as she tried to regulate her erratic breathing. The nurse dragged a wet cloth over her exposed skin, helping her cool down.

The fireman was about to walk off when Lauren rapidly seized his gloved hand. Her eyes fell on the dark shield over his face. “Stay,” she had croaked, the tear tracks on her face making her appear more vulnerable. There was something about this man that drew Lauren to him.

Nodding, the brave fireman remained at her side while the nurse scurried off to find Lauren’s worried parents. Lauren continued to breathe in the fresh oxygen, finally regaining her dimmed senses.

The man took off his helmet, revealing his handsome, soot-covered face. His hair was jet black and mussed from his headgear, and he donned a neatly trimmed black beard. He had a deep tan and naturally radiated a positive aura. He smiled kindly at Lauren, his brilliant green eyes startling her. She had never seen a pair so vivid besides her own.

“What’s your name?” he inquired mindlessly, taking the wet cloth himself and resumed to rub the grime off her cheeks. The touch was very comforting for child Lauren.

“M - My name’s Lauren.”

His eyes twinkled. “Ah, what a beautiful name, perfectly suited for a princess such as yourself. Well, Lauren, I’m here to tell you something important. Are you ready?” Lauren nodded eagerly, intrigued in what this man had to say. “Some women are lost in the fire. Some women are built from it. Promise me that you’ll be a strong, brave girl and the fire will never touch you.”

Lauren nodded enthusiastically. “I promise.”

The firefighter’s eyes crinkled with a soft smile. “Then my work here is done.”

Within the blink of an eye, the mysterious man had vanished and was replaced by Lauren’s crying parents. Seven-year-old Lauren blinked at the change, never forgetting that nice fireman that no one seemed to remember.

Even though she tried to live by her hero’s words, fire had always made her uneasy, allowing fear to quickly diminish her usual confident facade. From that moment on, Lauren feared to burn.

And with that, the daughter of Poseidon concluded her story, her eyes cast downward. She patiently waited for a reaction while she slowly composed herself, realizing how light she felt after she told someone else about the incident.

Camila had a hand covering her mouth in shock at the pained confession. Tears brimmed in her own eyes. “Oh my gods, Lauren, I’m so sorry. No wonder you were so repulsed by my touch. It was because of my powers.” The Latina glared at her hands, ashamed that her elemental nearly killed the beautiful girl in front of her. She curled her hands into tight fists.

“Camila, you’re not the reason why fire still freaks me out. You’re the reason why I’m overcoming my fear,” Lauren revealed softly, scooting closer to the conflicted pyrokinetic. “You make fire appear warm and vibrant, not violent and destructive, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

The green-eyed girl placed herself right beside Camila and grabbed her hand, weaving their fingers together. The heat that the brunette radiated honestly intimidated her but it also brought her closer. Camila was a flickering flame that Lauren couldn’t stay away from.

Lauren shyly leaned her head on Camila’s shoulder, keeping their joined hands together. “You can’t burn me, Cabello,” she murmured in attempts to liven the mood.

A corner of the brunette’s mouth twitched upward. “I couldn’t even if I tried, Jauregui,” she admitted quietly, inhaling deeply. Camila’s eyes fluttered shut at the serene moment, knowing that she was about to ruin it. “Would it be bad timing if I told you that I almost drowned when I was kid?”

The raven-haired girl groaned, bowing her head, her dark tresses tickling the brunette’s neck. Now Camila was telling her that her elemental nearly killed her? “Gods, why are we like this?” she muttered. This was too cynical for her taste. “Please elaborate.”

Camila pressed her lips into a firm line, replaying the incident in her mind. It wasn’t as life-scarring as Lauren’s but it certainly changed her perspective on a few major things.

“Well, when I was eight, I was at an indoor pool with my mom and I was hanging out by the deep end of the pool when these little boys came along and started making fun of me. You know, the usual stuff, like my teeth were crooked or that I was stupid or ugly. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

"I tried to stand up for myself but the leader of the group pushed me into the twelve foot zone of the pool. They quickly ran off while I struggled to stay afloat but couldn’t since I was petrified. To make matters worse, I couldn’t swim so a lifeguard had to dive in to save my life. Sometimes, I can still taste the chlorine water in my lungs. It’s safe to say that I’ve been very wary of large bodies of water after that ordeal. I’ve been afraid to drown ever since.”

Lauren gripped Camila’s hand in assurance, pressing her side against the younger girl. “I’m so sorry, Camz. Those stupid kids should’ve been banned from ever stepping foot into another pool. I wish I was there; I would have continually splashed them with water until they were begging to leave.” She rested her chin on the brunette’s shoulder, Camila’s scent making her heart race.

Camila shrugged, her heart fluttering at their proximity. “It’s okay, Lo. My mom told their parents and by the looks on their faces, those boys probably never got to go out together again. That’s all the revenge eight-year-old Camila needed.”

I also wouldn’t have minded giving them permanent Indian burns, but whatever, the past is in the past.

The pyrokinetic wrapped an arm around the sea spawn’s waist, holding her close. “Looks like we fear each other’s powers. How ironic is that?”

Lauren snorted. “Very. The gods must be laughing their asses off.”

Camila chuckled, already imagining the forty-foot immortals rolling in laughter. “Well, we could always prove them wrong,” she prompted, strumming her fingers on Lauren’s side.

The daughter of Poseidon turned her head slightly, her eyes dropping from the slope of Camila’s nose to her plump lips. Lauren subconsciously wet her own lips. “What do you mean?”

“I’m saying that we should help each other overcome our fears. I trust you enough to know that you wouldn’t let me drown, and I’m assuming that you trust me because there’s no way in Tartarus that I’d ever let you burn.”

This would be a big step for both of them as the plan involved regularly becoming vulnerable and a large foundation of trust, seeing that the girls held each other’s fears in the palm of their hands. The method would either make or break them.

Lauren contemplated the idea before a long yawn slipped out of her mouth. Camila’s emitting heat was slowly lulling her to sleep and her body was crying out for a physical break after their emotional rollercoaster of a conversation. “Can I nap on it?” Lauren asked drowsily, barely able to keep her eyelids open.

The brunette smiled at the girl in adoration. “Of course, there’s no need to rush. Now come here, princess.”

Camila proceeded to lie on her back while Lauren curled up into her side, her head resting on Camila’s chest. The girls shifted to get into a comfortable position, grateful that the van had a plush carpet floor.

Lauren hummed at the excess supply of heat, her hand trailing down to Camila’s abdomen, latching onto the long-sleeved shirt. Camila nearly jumped at the sensation of Lauren’s hand on her toned stomach.

A smile formed on Lauren’s face when Camila began running her fingers through her dark hair, murmuring, “I got you” before transitioning to hum a traditional Spanish lullaby. The brunette’s steady heartbeat in her ear soothed Lauren into falling asleep, her light snores music to Camila’s ears.

If there was one thing Camila was absolutely good at, it was keeping Lauren warm.

–––

A/N: yeah, i just did that, and again, sorry it took so long. i wanted to update during the holiday season but i was suddenly whisked away on vacation so i couldn’t work on it and midterms weren’t any help.

i hope your holidays were fun and safe. :) let’s pray that 2017 is a good year. i can’t wait to see what 2017 will bring from both 5h and camila.

oh, and sorry that caminah was the largest part of this chapter lmao. i just needed to establish what happened between them so we can move onto camren and norminah. good things come to those who wait. i hope you caminah shippers enjoyed because that whole ordeal was enough (9.8k) for its own little fic lol.

and yes, lauren was originally bisexual (i’ve planned this chapter for months now, oops) before she came out in real life so aye, i called it lol. just keep in mind that i’ve been planning some of these chapters for a while now so please pardon any coincidences or other goofs in advance.

yo, that smut was like 4.7k so yeah. i hope ya’ll enjoyed, seeing it was my first published smut scene. and who knows, you might be seeing some more later, but with another pairing ;)

since this fic is getting more attention - THANKS FOR THE 47K+ READS GUYS I LOVE YA’LL - comment what you would like to know about me (the author) or the fic :) i’ll try my best to answer all of them to my greatest extent, and as for the fic questions, don’t be surprised when i’m vague lol. a writer must keep some of their secrets.

remember, this isn’t the last you’ve seen of me. till next time!

tumblr: hellyeahfeels

#UPDATE #series #AU #camren #action adventure #humour #scifi supernatural fantasy #submission #Through the Mist

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infolibrary · 5 years

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11 Types of People Who Are Doomed to Be Forever Alone

New Post has been published on http://www.infolibrary.net/11-types-of-people-who-are-doomed-to-be-forever-alone/

11 Types of People Who Are Doomed to Be Forever Alone

According to survey results from the Gallup company, 60% of millennials are lonely. This happens even despite the wide availability of online dating sites and the presence of Tinder with hundreds of millions of users from all over the world. But why is this so? Why do communications stop after 2 or 3 dates?

Bright Side has looked at this situation closely and found out 11 types of people who are usually blacklisted after a couple of offline meetings.

Mama’s boy

Imagine being invited to his home for a cup of coffee after dinner but being asked to speak quietly because his parents are sleeping in the next room. Yes, it means that the one you chose lives with parents, however he stopped being a student a long time ago. It’s so convenient when your mom is always there to feed you, to keep everything clean and organized, and to wash your clothes. She might even give you some pocket money if you behave well. This guy can be a great friend, but not a good husband.

Fan

“I can’t come to your parents’ place — I’m leaving to root for my team.” If you hear something like this, it means you are dealing with a zealot who will sacrifice anything for his hobby. His buddies are always there waiting for him and his home is always snowed under piles of balls, cups, fishing rods, or hunting trophies. Will there be enough space for you in this home?

Sculptor

This person perceives their partner as a “blank canvas” that needs sculpting to become the one who will fit in their life. If you are constantly compared to others and are told not to wear those jeans, to get rid of your piercing, or to get your body in shape, it means you were “lucky” enough to meet a “sculptor.” The most interesting thing is that the “sculptor” feels OK personally having any of these imperfections themselves.

Joker

This person is ready to tell all of their various interesting stories, anecdotes, and foolish jokes for the whole evening during a date. He is not interested in listening to others. If you try to add a story to his monologue, he will interrupt you with a, “Once I had…” story. So, instead of going on a second date with this person, it’s better to just go see a show.

Not single

“I have a girlfriend but we decided to take a break,” says the person you went on a date with. They may end up talking the whole evening about their ex regardless of whether they’re positive or negative stories. It means that their feelings still haven’t cooled down and that there is no point in starting a new relationship because no one wants to be the third wheel or the rebound.

Spender

The spender will invite a girl to the trendiest restaurant and will treat her with lobster and black caviar. But next time he will ask to borrow $10. A spender-girl, in her turn, takes out a lot of loans or spends her dad’s money on a new coat and the latest iPhone. Relationships with these people may lead to another “relationship” with bailiffs.

Brawler

Cold steak, expired milk, a dust particle in a hotel room — anything can be a reason to complain for this type of person. A brawler seems to be happy encountering imperfect service because it can be another reason for them to demonstrate their outstanding “skills.” However, there is one ’but’ – their partner doesn’t admire them, but instead hides their eyes feeling ashamed. We wonder why?

A smartphone person

It goes like this: you are telling a touching story about how you lost a dog in your childhood and at the most dramatic moment of the story you notice that your partner is looking at their phone’s screen. They never stay far from their phone — continuing to text and comment when you are at the movies or watching videos while eating. If your partner is literally living in the world of social media, maybe it’s better for them to search for love on social media too.

Thrifter

This person still doesn’t have a smartphone because their Nokia 3310 works perfectly. He keeps mending old clothes for as long as possible and gets rid of them only when they are completely worn out. He has money for new clothes but he simply doesn’t see any point in buying any. Image means nothing to him. However, their partner might have an opposite opinion and feel ashamed of being seen together with a thrifter.

Desperate

This type of person wants to get married so bad that they scare off any potential candidates. Maybe a guy, asking a girl on their first date about the number of kids she wants to have, is trying to demonstrate his serious intentions, but usually, this is considered inappropriate. Just like a girl who wants to introduce her new boyfriend to her parents after only knowing him for 3 days.

Activist

People who eagerly follow an idea often tend to see potential novices in their surroundings. And it’s vital for them to have their partner share their ideas completely. Also, it’s forbidden to tell any kind of jokes about their adherence. Therefore, you have 2 options if you want to date such an ideological person — you either need to seriously subscribe to the same ideas as your partner does or admit that you haven’t grown the way they have in life.

Perhaps you have already met a representative of one of these types. Is there anyone you would like to add to this list? We’re so curious to read your thoughts in the comments!

Illustrated by Yekaterina Ragozina for BrightSide.me

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#Inspiration. Creativity. Wonder.#Psychology

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